The words said CLOSING DOWN SALE.
Then he went to bed, still babbling excitedly about lorries and hills and cities, whatever they were, and slept for two hours.
Later on, Masklin went to see him.
Angalo was sitting up in bed, his eyes still shining like bright marbles in the paleness of his face.
'Don't you get him tired,' warned Granny Morkie, who always nursed anyone too ifi to prevent it. 'He's very weak and feverish, it's all that rattling around in those great noisy things, it's not natural. I've just had his dad in here, and I had to turf him out after five minutes.' 'You got rid of the Duke?' said Masklin. 'But how? He doesn't listen to anyone!' 'He might be a big nome in the Store,' said Granny in a self-satisfied tone of voice, 'but he's just an awkward nuisance in a sick-room.' 'I need to talk to him,' said Masklin.
'And I want to talk!' said Angalo, sitting up. 'I want to tell everyone! There's everything out there! Some of the things I've seen-' 'You just settle down,' said Granny, gently pushing him back into the pillows. 'And I'm not too happy about rats in here, either.' Bobo's whiskers could just be seen under the end of the blankets.
'But he's very clean and he's my friend,' said Angalo. 'And you said you like rats.' 'Rat. I said rat. Not rats,' said Granny. She prodded Masklin. 'Don't you let him get overexcited,' she commanded.
Masklin sat down by the bed while Angalo talked with wild enthusiasm about the world outside, like someone who had spent his life with a blindfold on and had just been allowed to see. He talked about the big light in the sky, and roads full of lorries, and big things sticking out of the floor which had green things all over them- 'Trees,' said Masklin.
-and great buildings where things went on the lorry or came off it. It was at one of these that Angalo got lost. He'd climbed out when it stopped for a while, to go to the lavatory, and hadn't been able to get back before the driver returned and drove away. So he'd climbed on to another one, and some time after it had driven away it stopped at a big park with other lorries in it. He started looking for another Arnold Bros (est. 1905) lorry.
'It must have been a cafe on a motorway,' said Masklin. 'We used to live near one.' 'Is that what it's called?' said Angalo, hardly listening. 'There was this big blue sign with pictures of cups and knives and forks on it. Anyway-' -there weren't any Store lorries. Or perhaps there were, but there were so many other types he couldn't find one. Eventually he'd camped out on the edge of a lorry park, living on scraps, until by sheer luck one had turned up. He hadn't been able to get into the cab, but he had managed to climb up a tyre and find a dark place where he had to hold on to cables with his hands and knees to stop himself falling off on to the rushing road, far below.
Angalo produced his notebook. It was stained almost black.
'Nearly lost it,' he said. 'Nearly ate it once, I was so hungry.' 'Yes, but the actual driving,' Masklin said insistently, with one eye on the impatient Granny Morkie. 'How do they do the actual driving?' Angalo flicked through the book. 'I made a note somewhere,' he said. 'Ah, here.' He passed it over.
Masklin looked at a complicated sketch of levers and arrows and numbers.
'"Turn the key ... one, two... press the red button ... one, two ... push pedal number one down with the left foot, push big lever left and up one, two... let pedal one up gently, push pedal number two down..." 'He gave up. 'What does it all mean?' he said, dreading the answer. He knew what it was going to be.
'It's how you drive a lorry,' said Angalo.
'Oh. But, er, all these pedals and buttons and levers and things,' said Masklin weakly.
'You need 'em all,' said Angalo, proudly. 'And then you go rushing along, and you change up the gears, and-' 'Yes. Oh. I see,' said Masklin, staring at the piece of paper.
How? he thought.
Angalo had been very thorough. Once; when he'd been alone in the cab, he'd measured the height of what he called the Gear Lever, which seemed very important. It was five times the height of a nome. And the big wheel that moved and seemed to be very important was as wide as eight nomes standing side by side.
And you had to have keys. Masklin hadn't known about the keys. He hadn't known about anything.
'I did well, didn't I?' said Angalo. 'It's all in there.' 'Yes. Yes. You did very well.' 'You have a good look, it's all in there. All about the going-around-corners flasher and the horn,' Angalo went on enthusiastically.
'Yes. Yes, I'm sure it is.' 'And the go-faster pedal and the go-slower pedal and everything! 'Only you don't look very pleased.' 'You've given me a lot to think about, I'm sure.' Angalo grabbed him by the sleeve. 'They said there was only one Store,' he said urgently. 'There isn't, there's so much outside, so much. There's other Stores. I saw some. There could be nomes living in 'em! Life in other Stores! Of course, you know.' 'You get some more sleep,' said Masklin, as kindly as he could manage.
'When are we going to go?' 'There's plenty of time,' said Masklin. 'Don't worry about it. Get some sleep.' He wandered out of the sick-room and straight into an argument. The Duke had returned, with some followers, and wanted to take Angalo up to the Stationery Department. He was arguing with Granny Morkie. Or trying to, anyway.
'Madam, I assure you he'll be well looked after!' he was saying.
'Humph! Wotdo you people know about doctrin'? You hardly ever have anything go wrong here! Where I come from,' said Granny, proudly, 'it's sick, sick, sick all year round. Colds and sprains and bellyache and bites the whole time. That's what you call experience. I reckon I've seen more ifi people than you've had hot dinners and,' she prodded the Duke in the stomach, 'you've had a few of those.' 'Madam, I could have you imprisoned!' roared the Duke.
Granny sniffed. 'And what has that got to do with it?' she said.
The Duke opened his mouth to roar back, and then caught sight of Masklin. He shut it again.
'Very well,' he said. 'You are, in fact, quite right. But I will visit him every day.' 'No longer than two minutes, mind,' sniffed Granny.
'Five!' said the Duke.
'Three,' said Granny.
'Four,' they agreed.
The Duke nodded, and beckoned Masklin towards him.
'You have spoken to my son,' he said.
'Yes, sir,' said Masklin.
'And he told you what he saw.' 'Yes, sir.' The Duke looked quite small. Masklin had always thought of him as a big nome, but now he realized that most of the size was a sort of inward inflation, as if the nome was pumped up with importance and authority. It had gone now.
The Duke looked worried and uncertain. 'Ah,' he said, looking approximately at Masklin's left ear. 'I think I sent you some people, didn't I?' 'Yes.' 'Satisfactory, are they?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Let me know if you need any more help, won't you? Any help at all.' The Duke's voice faded to a mumble. He patted Masklin vaguely on the shoulder and wandered away.
'What's up with him?' said Masklin. Granny Morkie started to roll bandages in a businesslike way. No one needed them, but she believed in having a good supply. Enough for the whole world, apparently.
'He's having to think,' she said. 'That always worries people.' 'I just never thought it would be as hard as this!' Masklin wailed.
'You mean you didn't have any idea how we can drive one?' said Gurder.
'None at all?' said Grimma.
'I ... well, I suppose I thought the lorries sort of went where you wanted,' said Masklin.
'I thought if they did it for humans they'd do it for us. I didn't expect all this go-one-two-pull stuff ! Those wheels and pedals are huge, I've seen them!' He stared distractedly at their faces.