30 Day Blog Challenge, Uncategorized

The Adventures of Bucky Goodfellow, Part 2 [Blog Challenge Day 23]

Here is the first Bucky Adventure!

The Case of the Purple Cow

When I nailed up the new shop sign, my friends all laughed. “The Great Elf Detective,” it said. “Solve a crime in no time.”

Hardwinkle Dwarf slapped my back till the brass buttons of my green suit jangled. “Snap out of it Bucky,” he guffawed. “You never solved any case.”

“I’m thinking positively,” I replied tapping a nail in with a hammer. That meant, I knew I could be the dandiest detective in the whole brand spanking world! All I needed was a chance to prove it. So I sent an ad to the Fairy Times Gazette:

For help with any Puzzling Mystery write to:

Bucky Goodfellow,Great Elf Detective
332C Rekab Tree
The Enchanted Forest

“That should do it,” I chuckled. But no. Weeks went by. Not a letter, not a note, not a postcard.

Finally, one morning, while sorting through the mail, I came across a giant, lavendar colored envelope. I tapped my wooden heels together with glee. “It’s addressed to the Great Elf Detective!”

I ripped it open and found a note written in huge purple letters:

Dear Mr. Goodfellow,

Help! There’s a purple cow in my attic!

At least when I wake up every morning another Violet Curly Grass plant has been munched off. So my house must be haunted by a purple cow. I heard they live in attics. Do you think it could be dangerous?

If you can help me I would be
Gratefully Yours,

Jilette the Giantess,
286B Aster Mansion
East Enchanted Forest

“A purple cow?” I scratched my chin. “In an attic? I’d better consult the Book of Legendary Creatures.”

I opened it and read, “A fairy-tale beast that haunts attics. Its favorite food is Violet Curly Grass, which stains it such a strange color.”

“This is a serious situation,” I gasped. “I’ll leave at once.” Jamming a feathered red cap on my head, I bolted out the door.

I had no trouble finding Jilette’s huge purple mansion. As I scurried up the marble walkway, Jilette plodded out to meet me, wearing mud-spattered gardening boots. Her eyebrows squinted together from worry wrinkles and she carried a gardening spade in her hand.

“Hello, Mr. Goodfellow,” she said, peering down at me through the bifocles perched on her nose. “I’m sorry for staring, but I’m a bit nearsighted. Do you have any thoughts on the case, yet?”

“First I should look at the scene of the crime.” I whipped out a notepad and took a pencil from behind my ear. “Please, show me the way Ms. Jilette.”

I followed her around the mansion. “Here’s my plot of curly grass,” she announced, pointing to several rows of grape colored, cork-screwed grass. Dew-like beads of purple juice oozed from the grasses and dribbled to the ground.

I jotted down details. A plum orchard standing on one side of the grass plot. A line of wisteria bushes marching down the other. A purple splotched bird preening in a purple nest.

“The Mottled Karvex.” Jilette pointed at the bird as it swayed on a wisteria bush. “I love birds.”

I nodded, studying the ground. No hoof prints, I wrote on my notepad. “I think the curly grass had been snapped off.” I held a magnifying glass over the dry, withered grass stalks. “There’s no teeth marks.”

“What else?” Jilette nibbled her fingernails.

I flipped my notepad shut. “If there’s a purple cow it would hide in your attic during the day. Let’s take a look.”

We searched the attic all afternoon, but all we found was a cloud of dust and a purple sofa. “There’s only one thing left to do,” I decided, between sneezes. “We must watch the garden tonight and try to catch the thief.”

After twilight we crouched behind a plum tree. Jilette bit her lip and wrung her hands. “Stop whimpering,” I hissed,raising my binoculars. “It’ll give us away.”

Night fell and the stars popped out. In the moonlight, I kept track with my pocket watch, but nothing happened. Not one blessed thing. We kept nodding off. Finally, just as the pale gray dawn cracked the eastern sky, the wisteria bushes rustled.

Jilette jerked awake. “Here it comes.” She raised a big black cane she’d brought.

We stared at the lavender-blossomed bushes. Suddenly, something, splotched and purple, darted from the bush and landed in the curly grass.

“It’s your Mottled Karvex,” I sighed.

“Oh.” She lowered the cane, sounding relieved. “I guess the purple cow isn’t going to come.”

“Wait.” I pointed to the Karvex. “What’s the bird doing?”

“I can’t see.” She squinted. “My eyes, remember?”

I scratched my head. “Why, it’s pulling up the curly grass! Ms. Jilette if you have a bird book handy I think I can solve the mystery.”

We scurried inside and Jilette led me to her library. I flipped a bird book open to “Mottle Karvex.”

“Of course!” I exclaimed. “The Mottled Karvex uses Violet Curly Grass to build its nest. Its babies love curly grass juice. It’s what splotches them purple.

“There’s your thief, Jilette!” I slammed the book down triumphantly.

“Huh?” Jilette frowned.

“Ms. Jilette,” I explained, “the Mottled Karvex is taking your curly grass. There is no purple cow.”

“No purple cow?” Jilette parroted.

“None. Just some baby birds that need your curly grass to live.”

“Oh the poor things!” she exclaimed. “Why, they can have all they want. Well, would you like some breakfast, Mr. Goodfellow?”

“I’m starving.” Pulling out my notepad, I followed her to the dining room. I licked my pencil and started to scribble: the Case of the Purple Cow is solved!

I rounded the corner into the kitchen. Gillette’s cupboards stood wide open. And on the counter, front feet inside the cupboards, stood a three foot tall, scrawny…purple cow.

It turned its head at the sound of my footsteps and mooed hungrily.

“Gillette!” I yelled at the top of my voice.

She clomped into the kitchen. “How’s about some scrambled eggs?” she suggested.

“Never mind that!” I pointed a shaking finger at the miniture purple cow. “I found your cow!”

“Cow?” She looked at it and frowned, puzzled. “But you said there wasn’t any.”

“Err, yes,” I fumbled for a reason. “Well it was the bird after your Curly Grass. It appears the cow is quite real and…prefers something from your cupboards in the way of meals.”

Gillette stalked over to the cupboards. The cow lowed politely, stood up on its back legs and places its front hooves on Gillette’s apron.

She scratched its head and it closed its eyes with pleasure. “Why, its friendly,” she said with shock. “And kind of cute!”

“Perhaps you should name her and keep her,” I suggested.

Her face brightened. “Brilliant thought!” She said. “Then I’ll never get lonely.”

I smiled. Sitting down at the table, I pull out my notebook again. The case of the Purple Cow really is closed now, I add in the margins.

Wait till Hardwinkle Dwarf hears about this!

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