The Shelves and the Oohmaker.

The Shelves and the Ooh Maker

CHAPTER ONE

The Ooh-maker, lived on the library shelves. 

He liked books, shelves and making people say “Ooh. 

The record stood at seventeen “oohs” from a sixty-eight year old lady. 

The best way to make people say “ooh” in a library, was to squeeze behind a good heavy book, wait for someone to walk by, and shove the book off the shelf and onto their head.

The Ooh-maker had tried other shelves, but the library was definitely the place to get the maximum number of “oohs” in a day.

Also, people were supposed to be quiet in a library, which made it all the more amusing when a heavy book hit them on the head and they tried to say “ooh!” in a whisper.

The Ooh-maker had read most of the books in the library. He liked non-fiction best.

One morning, the Ooh-maker woke up and felt very unwell. His head ached and he felt terribly sick. He made his way along the shelves to the medical section of the library, and found a medical dictionary. He knew that the posh name for sickness was nausea,  

so he squeezed in-between the pages on the subject and wiggled about until he had enough room to read it easily without feeling squashed.

It seemed that nausea was a symptom of just about every illness imaginable.  

The best cure appeared to be plenty of rest and a glass of milk.

The Ooh-maker didn’t like milk unless it was made into a thick strawberry milkshake, so he decided to just rest.

He lay down where he was and before long he was fast asleep.

He woke up to discover that the nausea was worse and that he felt as if he was flying through the air.

This was hardly surprising, because he was flying through the air.

 A medical student had picked up the exact same book that the Ooh -maker had been reading. The student put the book down on the table and began to read about vertigo.

The Ooh-maker was glad he wasn’t reading about asthma or he would have been crushed to death by the pages on top of him.

After a while, the Ooh-maker began to get short of breath. He knew that if he didn’t move soon, he would suffocate. Very slowly he turned over onto his side.

The student stopped reading, and looked at the book in an odd sort of way. Then he shook his head and continued to read.

The Ooh -maker thought he might manage to squeeze out of the book, but he had grave doubts about getting back to the shelves without being seen.

He was just thinking he might risk it, when he was thrown back inside the pages and lifted off the table.

The student took his library ticket out of his top pocket and made his way to the desk.

Panic overcame the Ooh-maker and he began to shout, “ooh, ooh, ooh!”

He was close to the record number of “oohs” when the student stopped and opened the book at the nausea page.

The student and the Ooh-maker stared at one another.

CHAPTER TWO

To tell the truth, it’s a good job it happened in a library, because the student would have screamed if he’d been anywhere else.

He walked slowly back to the table with the book open at nausea, and his eyes glued to the little fellow inside. When he had made sure no-one was watching, the student put his head right near the book and stared at the Ooh-maker.

“What in the wide world are you?” he asked, when he had stared for absolutely ages.

“I’m an Ooh-maker and I want to go back on the shelves so I can do my job,” replied the Ooh-maker.

 “You certainly are,” said the student.

 “What do you mean, I certainly am?” asked the Ooh-maker.

“I’ve never been so near saying “ooh” in my life,” the student explained.

 “Ha, ha,” laughed the Ooh-maker, “You just said it!”

 “What’s your name?” asked the student,

 “Don’t know,” said the Ooh-maker, “What’s yours?”

 “Colin “ said the student.

 “Well Colin, I think it’s about time you put me back on the shelf.”

“I’ll decide when to put you back, and whether to put you back,” said Colin.

 The Ooh-maker sensed a nasty tone creeping into Colin’s voice.

 “I could do research on you.” said Colin, “and make a lot of money”

 “Would you have to cut me open to do research?” the Ooh-maker asked in a terrified voice.

“We’ll see,” said Colin, and he closed the book and took it, and the Ooh-maker, to the desk to be checked out.

He was almost at the desk when he heard the Ooh-makers voice again.

 “Get me out of the book or she’ll kill me when she scans the bar code, and that’ll be the end of your research.”

Colin flicked open the nausea page and picked up the Ooh-maker.

The librarian was watching him.

As he arrived at the desk she looked him straight in the eye and said, “All items left in books by previous borrowers, belong to the library and must not be removed by subsequent borrowers.”

 “Thank goodness for that,” thought the Ooh-maker.

 “Oh, I was just moving a bit of biscuit crumb before it marked the pages,” Colin lied.

 “Well, just so you know,” the librarian said huffily.

 She scanned the book and Colin left the library with the Ooh-maker held firmly between his finger and thumb.

CHAPTER THREE

Back at the student’s flat, the Ooh-maker was placed under a microscope for examination.

“Keep still you little squirt!” said Colin, “I’m trying to examine you.”

“I need to be on the shelves or I will die,” said the Ooh-maker.

“I can’t examine you on the shelves. I only have a short flex on my microscope. I will be as quick as I can, if you will just be quiet and keep still.”

 The Ooh-maker lay down and didn’t move a muscle.

 “I notice you have very still muscles,” Colin remarked.

 After about fifteen minutes, Colin lifted the Ooh-maker up onto the book shelves, and         

 began writing in a large notebook.

 The Ooh-maker scanned the shelves until his eyes fell on a book called “The Great Escape.”

 “Oh No, not again,” said the Ooh-maker, “This is getting worse. My eyes have fallen out at least four times this week. I think I am dying.”

As he picked up his eyes, he noticed the title of the book. He opened it and began to read. The story was about some soldiers who had built an underground tunnel and escaped from a prison camp. It was very interesting.

The Ooh-maker finished the book and began to wonder if he could plan a daring escape that people would read about and make films of. After a little while, he decided he couldn’t.

Colin finished his notes and went to the shelves. “Do you eat?” he asked.

 “Now and then,” said the Ooh-maker, “It depends on what I can find lying about inside the books. It’s mainly biscuit crumbs, or occasionally a bit of chocolate. Chocolate is very nice but it’s tricky to get off the page.”

 “How would you like a chocolate biscuit?” asked Colin.

 “Sounds wonderful,” said the Ooh-maker.

CHAPTER FOUR

While Colin went to get the chocolate biscuit, the Ooh-makers eyes fell on another very interesting book. Once again he picked them up and put them back in.

 This is how his Father and Grandfather had gone near the end of their lives. Their eyes fell out more and more frequently. His Grandfather’s eyes had actually rolled off the shelves and he had never found them again.

 Once an Ooh-maker is blind, he cannot live for more than three hours.

 The Ooh-maker’s Father had invented some spectacles with small bags attached to the bottom of the lenses, so that if his eyes were about to fall on a book, they would drop into the bags and be safe.

 It was a good idea, but the Ooh-maker’s mother didn’t like to see her husband with bags under his eyes and kept nagging him to get to bed earlier.

Colin arrived with the chocolate biscuit, and to his surprise he found the Ooh-maker was crying. “Whatever is the matter?” he asked.

 “I was just thinking about my family and about how this eye problem gets us all in the end.”

Colin seemed genuinely concerned, so the Ooh-maker went on to explain about  his eye sockets, and how they grew faster than his eye balls. He told Colin about his Grandfather and his Father and the invention and everything. The Ooh-maker had

never told anyone his family history before. When he had finished he felt much better.                                                 

 Colin looked at him and smiled.

 “I think I might be able to help you,” he said. “My Father is a leading eye surgeon in London, he has been working on some research into enlarging eyeballs in order to replace misshaped lenses more easily. I will phone him this minute and ask if we can go and see him.”

That very afternoon, Colin put the Ooh-maker and a chocolate biscuit in his top pocket, and set off to London.

While they were on the train, the Ooh-makers eyes fell on the chocolate biscuit. It had begun to melt and the chocolate got on his eyeballs. The Ooh-maker had always wanted brown eyes, so he was very pleased.

When Colin’s Father met the Ooh-maker, he agreed to do all he could to help him.

 “How long will you live if your eyes don’t fall out any more?” he asked.

The Ooh-maker had no idea. As far back as any Ooh-maker could remember, their eyes had increasingly fallen out when they were old, and they had died shortly afterwards.

CHAPTER FIVE

Colin’s Father operated on one of the Ooh-maker’s eyes at a time, so he could see what was going on with the other one. It was most interesting. He took some clear slimy gunge from a pig’s eyeball. It was called vitreous humour.

  Colin said that was a very silly name for a pig.

 Colin’s father carefully inserted the gunge into the Ooh-maker’s eyeball with a small syringe. The eyeball began to expand. When it was a shade bigger, he took the needle out and asked the Ooh-maker to try it for size. It was a bit tight at first, but the surgeon  

said that was ideal.

 The second eyeball was not a complete success. Colin’s Father was so excited at his work with the first eyeball, that he became rather carried away and squirted far too much fluid into the second one.

Pig’s eyeballs are famous for being very tough, but Ooh-makers have very thin skinned eyeballs. There was a loud popping sound.

 The Ooh-maker, watched in horror as his eyeball exploded all over the laboratory.

 “How long do Ooh-makers live if they only have one eye?” asked Colin.

 “We’ll soon see,” said his Father quietly.

 They all sat down and drank tea. Colin’s father kept an eye on the clock.

 “I’ve just remembered,” said the surgeon, “ I keep an eye on the clock.”  

He quickly picked up the spare eye and tried it in the empty socket.

 It was a perfect fit.

 “Aha,” cried the surgeon, “This proves that it is not your eye sockets that grow, but your eyeballs that shrink"                                                                                              

 The Ooh-maker wasn’t quite sure how Colin’s Dad had come to that conclusion, but he was glad to have two eyes again so he didn’t argue.

The surgeon took some photographs of the Ooh-maker and his eyes to send in to the medical journal. He did not take any pictures of the eye-ball that had exploded all over the laboratory.

 When he had finished, Colin and the Ooh-maker caught the train home.

 The Ooh-maker’s eyes did not fall out. He was very happy.

 “When we get back home,” said Colin, “I will take you back to the library so that you can push books onto people’s heads and make them say “Ooh.”

 “Thank you” said the Ooh-maker, “I would like that very much, but I will miss you.”

 “I will come and see you every Wednesday lunch time,” said Colin, “Wait for me in the medical dictionary.”

 And so, from that day to this, Colin and the Ooh-maker have had chocolate biscuits in the library every Wednesday lunch time.

The Ooh-maker’s eyeballs have been feeling a bit loose just recently, but now he keeps an eye on the clock, so that he can use it if he needs a replacement.

The End.