The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles (3 page)

FOUR

The house was marvelously interesting. To the left of a wide staircase stood a complete suit of armor. There were portraits on the walls, and it was easy for the children to guess that they were ancestors or relatives of their host since the resemblance to him was unmistakable.

There was a round table in the center of the hall, overflowing with books and magazines. The brass centerpiece was bursting with orange and red and yellow chrysanthemums.

The man ushered the children into a small room. There were so many books that there didn't seem to be space for anything else. Yet there was also a desk with a swivel chair behind it, and a large globe of the world standing in the corner. Three complex and wonderful mobiles hung from the ceiling.

The man motioned for them to sit down by the fire. "You'll have to sit on the carpet, I'm afraid," he said. "You see, I never have more than one armchair in here. It discourages company. Though of course

I'm very pleased to see you this evening." He sat down in the chair. "Now, let me see if I can remember your names. You're Melinda and you're Benjamin. Right?"

Ben and Lindy nodded.

"And, oh dear." He paused as he looked at Tom. "Is it Teddy?"

"Thomas, sir."

"Thomas, of course. Silly of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Samuel Savant."

Ben gasped. "Golly. Are you
the
Professor Savant? The one who works at the University?"

"I am."

"Dad was telling us about you the other day," Tom said.

"Was he, indeed?"

"Yes. Where's your prize?" Lindy asked.

"My prize?"

"She means the Nobel Prize, sir."

The professor chuckled. "I won't be receiving it for a while. But come now. I am most interested to know how you found me."

"We didn't know this was your house," said Tom. "We were out trick-or-treating," explained Ben. "Tom bet me twenty-five cents that I wouldn't knock on the door," added Lindy. "I thought an awful witch lived here."

"A witch? Mrs. Primrose, are you a witch?" the professor asked as the sweet-looking woman entered the room with a tray.

"I sometimes think I'd like to be one, sir," she said with a smile.

Mrs. Primrose gave a steaming mug of hot chocolate to each child, and placed a plate of cookies on the floor in front of them.

The professor sipped his hot chocolate. "Mm, that's good. So, you thought a witch lived here, eh?"

Ben felt embarrassed. "Everyone at school thinks this house is haunted."

Their host suddenly became serious.

"I'm afraid I'm responsible for that rumor. You see, I do hate to be bothered. I need a lot of peace and quiet when I'm working."

"What do you really do?" asked Tom.

"Well—I think a lot."

"That's not much," said Lindy.

"On the contrary. It's a great deal," replied the professor. "Right now I'm thinking about life. I ask myself questions about it—its origin and its meaning. Believe me, that takes a great deal of thought." He leaned forward in his chair. "Do you know that the secret of life has almost been captured? It's part of the alphabet now. Have you heard of DNA and RNA?"

"I think so, sir," Ben said, but he looked puzzled and Tom shook his head.

"DNA. That stands for deoxyribonucleic acid. Good word, huh?" The professor grinned.

"What does it mean?" Ben wanted to know.

"Well, let's see if I can explain it very simply." The professor touched the tips of his fingers together as he gave it some thought. "Try to imagine a human cell. A single, microscopically small unit of life. Inside the nucleus, the very center, is a sort of ladder, a ladder twisted into a spiral. On that spiral is all the information as to how life comes about."

"That's a bit too complicated for me," said Tom.

"It is indeed complicated," answered the professor. "Actually it's miraculous. And DNA and RNA are the codes to life itself."

"I always thought life had to do with G.O.D.," said Lindy in a clear voice.

"Oh, my dear." The professor laughed and touched her head gently. "I'm sure it does have a lot to do with G.O.D. Believe me, I think about Him a great deal too. But, however life began—and some scientists say it was by an incredible accident, and some say it was by God's design—we do have the unique privilege of being on this earth right now, and that's something we shouldn't take lightly."

"I like life very much," declared Lindy. She was a trifle confused by all the talk, though she was trying her best to understand it. "There's only one thing I really hate, and that's P.E."

"P.E.?"

"Physical education."

"Oh, I see."

"I'm absolutely no good at it," complained Lindy. "And I'm always being forced to do it."

Tom spoke in a disgusted tone. "Lindy, that has absolutely nothing to do with what we're talking about."

"I know, I know," she fibbed.

"I hope P.E. is the most serious problem you ever have to contend with," the professor said. He paused and then asked, "What do you suppose is the most serious problem that grown-ups have?"

The children gave it some thought.

Tom said, "Ecology."

"Daddy says it's too much starch in his shirts," said Lindy.

"I think it's the hydrogen bomb," said Ben after a moment.

"They're good answers. Ben is the closest, I think. But there is one thing more serious than that."

"More serious than the hydrogen bomb?" Ben was surprised.

"Oh, yes, indeed. You see, in a very short time the scientists who have discovered the secret of life will be able to
make
life. Then in a way we'll be playing G.O.D., as Lindy so aptly puts it. That's a huge responsibility. And we must hope that people won't be foolish. You know, the mind is a thing of extraordinary beauty. It has taken several million years for the human brain as we know it today to develop. Now all we have to do is to learn how to use it properly."

Nobody in the room spoke for a while. The fire crackled noisily. The professor seemed lost in thought.

Suddenly he came out of his reverie and addressed himself to Tom. "Did you look up Whangdoodle' in the dictionary as I suggested, young man?"

Tom smiled knowingly. "I did. And it doesn't make sense. Dad says a Whangdoodle probably doesn't exist."

"Of course it exists," the professor declared. "I
told
you it did."

'Well, where is the Whangdoodle? Where does it live?" challenged Tom.

Professor Savant looked at the children for a long moment, as though trying to make up his mind about something. Then he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and said quietly: "The Whangdoodle lives in Whangdoodleland, where he is king. He is the only animal left of his species, although there are other wonderful, fascinating creatures that live with him. There are Gazooks and Sidewinders. Tree Squeaks and Swamp Gaboons. There is an animal called an Oinck and another called a Prock. They have hardly ever been seen; in fact they would do anything possible to avoid mankind. So far, they have been remarkably successful."

The boys were enthralled. Lindy was so fascinated that she gazed at the professor with her mouth open as he continued. "Hundreds of years ago, things were very different. Man believed in magic and miracles and folklore and legend. Myths and witchcraft and the spirits and such were all quite real because people believed in them.

"There were many Whangdoodles. They were found mostly in China and Greece, Africa, England and the Scandinavian countries. Later, I believe, there were some Whangdoodles found in the islands of the Pacific."

The professor opened his eyes and stretched his legs towards the fire. "The popularity of the Whangdoodle was probably at its height in the Middle Ages, when people also believed in animals like the Unicorn and the Wyvern and the great Roc and the
Hippogriff. The Whangdoodle was said to be the wisest, the most generous and the most endearing of all the creatures.

"As the years passed, man became involved in technology and agriculture and industry. Of course, it was natural for him to want to learn about his environment and the laws of nature, about the universe and how to get to the moon, and so on. But as he broadened the new part of his mind, so he closed down a beautiful and fascinating part of the old—the area of fantasy. The more knowledge man gained, the more self-conscious he became about believing in fanciful creatures. People began to think that such things as dragons, goblins and gremlins didn't exist. The terrible thing is that when man dismissed all the fanciful creatures from his mind, the Whangdoodles disappeared along with them."

"But where did the Whangdoodles go?" cried Lindy.

"By the time the Whangdoodles and the other animals realized what was happening to them, it was almost too late," said the professor. "There was a tremendous upheaval. The dragons and the monsters became fearfully anxious, and they made a great fuss and fought with each other and killed or destroyed themselves by the thousands. Which was no help at all, of course. Many of the wonderful creatures from the past just faded away from sadness and neglect. That is why only a few remain today.

"King of them all is the last of the really great Whangdoodles. Being very wise and very clever, he retreated to a realm where man could not see or harm him."

"But if no one can see him, how do you know he's there?" asked Lindy.

The professor took a moment to drink the last of his hot chocolate, then he carefully set the cup to one side. "I know he's there, because I have been to Whangdoodleland."

The children sat in stunned silence.

He continued, "I have not actually met the Whangdoodle. He's elusive, and of course, he's as anxious to avoid me as I am determined to try to meet him."

"Well, where is Whangdoodleland?" Lindy whispered. "How do you get there?"

The professor spoke slowly and distinctly.

"There is only one possible road you can take," he said, "and that is to go by way of your imagination."

"But that's ridiculous," Ben cried. "You couldn't use your imagination to go
anywhere."

Tom said in a disbelieving voice, "That's just impossible."

"No it isn't. Nothing is impossible," replied the professor. "In fact, I have a saying in my office: `Whatever man imagines
is
possible.' I've proved that hundreds of times in my work."

"Okay. Then how did you do it?" challenged Tom.

"I had to go into training. I had to stimulate and teach my mind to become aware and open to any possibility. I was like an astronaut preparing to go to the moon. Think how long they study before they begin their journey. That's a perfect example of what I'm talking about." The professor jabbed a finger at the children. "Two hundred years ago who would have believed it possible that man could get to the moon? It would have seemed just as fanciful as my saying today that I have been to Whangdoodleland. But man
imagined
going to the moon, and now it's a reality."

Lindy asked a vital question. "But do you suppose
we
could ever get to Whangdoodleland? Do you suppose ordinary people like us could ever see it?"

The professor smiled a secret smile. "Yes, I believe you could," he said casually. "It would mean a great deal of hard work. But you're young and you actually stand a better chance of getting there than most adults. Your imaginations are vivid and fresh and you haven't closed your minds to possibilities the way so many grown-ups have."

"What would we have to do?" Tom asked cautiously.

"You would study with me," said the professor. "We would have to meet each day and work hard. When I thought you were ready we would begin trying to find the Whangdoodle. But you would have to do exactly as I say. More importantly, you would not be able to mention this to another living soul."

"Couldn't I tell Mummy?" asked Lindy.

The professor shook his head. "No, Lindy, it would spoil everything. You see, most grown-ups would not—indeed, they
could
not—understand what we would be trying to do."

"Then how come you understand so much about the Whangdoodle?" demanded Tom.

"That's because I am different. Some people consider me an eccentric. I specialize in imagination. I imagine things most people wouldn't even dream of."

"Like DNA and RNA," said Ben.

"Precisely. And the Whangdoodle. I have made it my life's work to study this extraordinary creature."

"I'd sure love to see a Whangdoodle," Ben said thoughtfully. "Gosh, what a thrill that'd be. To be the only people to have seen it in all these years."

"I still don't really see how it's possible," said Tom. "But it would be fun. What about Lindy, though?

Do you suppose she should go? She's too young, isn't she?"

"Of course I'm not," Lindy protested instantly. "I'm old enough to go. Aren't I, Professor?"

"I would think it important that you go, Lindy," he replied. "Being the youngest, your imagination is the most fertile. You could help where the rest of us might fail."