Tooth, the Whole Tooth and Nothing but the Tooth

3: Sugar?

I couldn't leave her in the kitchen all night (or what was left of it), but there was no way she could have made it upstairs, at least not with upstairs staying there. The only place I could think of was my shed. Beryl agreed readily.

I showed her to the shed, which was a little cramped for her impressive bulk. She seemed not to mind, however, so I left her to get comfortable and returned to bed.

My alarm went off at its preset time of 7:30. I rolled over in my preset manner (eyes shut and mind closed), and tapped the snooze button.

Just another ten minutes.

My eyes and mind then decided to go against their programming and snapped open. I thought for a moment.

No.

Er...

No. It couldn't have been.

I rolled over, hoping for another few minutes of drowsiness to ease me into the morning, but it was no use. I was (just about) wide awake. I'd have to get up.

I climbed out of bed and pulled on my dressing gown. After brushing my teeth and splashing my face, I went downstairs. There were a few letters scattered by the front door, which I collected on my way to the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen flicking through the post, putting bills to the back and personal letters to the front. I walked around the area where I knew the table to be and laid the letters on the worktop. Running almost under remote control, I filled the kettle and flicked it on, and took a cup from the tree. I opened the cupboard which houses all my tea, coffee and chocolate related items, and grabbed a tea bag. I dropped it into the cup and stood there yawning, waiting for the kettle.

Something was niggling at the back of my mind, but I couldn't quite figure out what. Oh, well. It was obviously important, otherwise I'd remember. It'd come to me. The kettle was taking an inordinately long time, so I thought I may as well sit down until it decided it was time to boil.

I turned around.

Ah.

I realised what was bugging me. I had walked around an empty space. The table was not in its usual spot, but was resting, somewhat precariously, against the wall. The biscuit tin was lying, empty, on the floor next to it, and there where two cups sitting, almost nonchalantly, side by side on its top (without coasters, I might add).

Ah.

I looked at the door frame to the hallway. Yep. Splinters and dents. Hmmm. I heard the kettle click off behind me, and turned to make my drink. I paused before lifting the kettle, and picked another cup off the tree. I dropped another bag into the cup, and proceeded to make two cups of tea (milk, two sugars).

Well, what else could I do?

I left the cups on the worktop, and went out to the shed. I knocked on the door and waited, glancing around to make sure none of my neighbours were spying (there's nothing like a Mastodon in your garden shed to make you paranoid).

There was a deep sounding yawn from within the shed. Oh, well. A man can hope.

"Come in," Beryl said.

Pushing the door open as far as it would go, I squeezed inside. Luckily, I don't have that many tools apart from a lawn mower and a spade and a couple of other bits and pieces. I say luckily, because my lawn mower was now flat, and my spade was now bent, and I hate to think what had happened to my bits and pieces.

Beryl looked at me and yawned. I stepped back. My, that was a big mouth.

"Cuppa?" I suggested.

"Lovely," she agreed.

I walked back into the house, with the Mastodon following (I would need to perform some surgery on that shed door). I was thankful that I'd had patio doors fitted the previous summer. Beryl walked through them quite easily. She took her tea with a thank-you-very-much, and swallowed it in one gulp. She looked dolefully at the biscuit tin.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't have any more. Do you fancy some toast, or something?"

"Please."

"How many? Two? Three?"

"Ten, please."

Sigh.

My toaster only takes two slices of bread at a time, so I spent the next fifteen minutes toasting bread and buttering toast ("with marmalade if you please"). Then, of course, there was the cup of tea to wash it down.

"The shops will be open soon," I told her. "I'll go get you some denture fixer then."

"Thank you," said Beryl. "You know, you're handling this very well."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, normally the people I've visited, or have seen me, either run, or faint, or think they're imagining me. It gets even worse when I start to speak."

Well it had come as a bit of a surprise, I thought to myself.

"How did you learn to talk," I wanted to know.

"I've watched the Human Race, as you call yourselves, grow up from nothing. It would make me rather stupid if I could not pick up the odd phrase here and there." With that, Beryl launched into a two minute tirade in a multitude of different languages. I recognised German, Spanish, and I think it was Russian, but that was about all.

"Wow," I commented.

"Of course, some of those languages have died out now. I even started a couple of languages myself, as a bit of a joke. I didn't expect them to catch on, though."

It occurred to me that I might as well attempt to solve another of life's mysteries, you know, while I was at it.

"Did man evolve from the ape then?" I asked casually.

I've never seen an elephant laugh before. It's very noisy, and, if you're not careful, dangerous.

"You humans," she managed between snorts. "You crack me up!"

I decided not to pursue the matter.

When she had calmed down, we talked for a while longer. She spoke of how hard it had been for her to follow the trail of her missing tooth. Travelling from country to country, always at night, without any company, had been, understandably, very difficult. I sympathised with her plight. She obviously knew humans very well, and had done her very best to keep out of sight. A big, hairy, talking elephant would tend to attract attention, and I praised her ability to keep herself hidden. She was very evasive when it came to me questioning her about man's ancestry, or the general history of the world, saying only that there were reasons why we didn't know things yet, and that we would soon find out. This irritated me. I was reminded of the film Cocoon, where the dolphins were the one's imparted with the knowledge of alien life. I was jealous. She obviously knew things that she wasn't going to disclose. It wasn't so much 'male' pride, as 'Man' pride. But she was a touch bigger than me, so I didn't push too hard.

I kept an eye on the time, and finally stood up.

"The shops will be open now. I'll go get that stuff for you. Will you be O.K. on your own?"

"Don't you worry about me," she said. "I've managed it this long."

I smiled, and went upstairs to get dressed. Once dressed, I looked in the mirror. I sighed at myself and shook my head. "What can you say?" I asked myself. I didn't have an answer, so I turned and went back to the kitchen.