Giggleswick: The Amadán Map

Chapter Seven: The Welcome Party

Chapter Seven: The Welcome Party

Mr. Bisby returned home that evening wearing a new work uniform and a big smile. “Hello, loved ones!” he sang cheerfully, looking as if he must have had a very good first day at work. He brandished the shiny silver badge that was pinned to his chest so Mrs. Bisby and Elliot would be sure to see. It was in the shape of a peace sign and had the words “Paxton of Giggleswick” inscribed around the edge, followed by Mr. Bisby’s name.

Elliot ran to give his father a hug and take a closer look at his badge. “What’s a paxton?” he asked. He’d never heard the word before. 

“It means ‘town of peace’,” said Mr. Bisby grandly, puffing out his chest and wandering over to his wife to plant a kiss on her cheek, no longer having much difficulty with his bum leg.  

Mrs. Bisby had a warm dinner waiting on their new kitchen table, which had been delivered along with the rest of their furniture by all seven burly Finster brothers just as promptly as Algernon Finster had promised. “Hello, darling. Did you have a nice day?” she asked sweetly, and she sprinkled a bit of salt and pepper over the roasted potatoes she’d just pulled from the oven. 

“Wonderful,” Mr. Bisby answered, leaning over her shoulder to bask in the aroma of the dinner she’d prepared. 

They were each very hungry as they sat down to eat the honey ham and roasted potatoes on the table before them, and Mr. Bisby was able to maintain a steady flow of words in-between mouthfuls as he recounted the details of his exciting day, which included learning the classic examples of peace disturbance and the procedure for peaceful apprehension. The latter apparently involved a spray that would instantly calm the belligerent so they could be handcuffed, but this was only for extreme circumstances he told them.

“The constable, Shiloh Humphrey, is a pleasant fellow –– he’s very anxious to meet you and Elliot,” said Mr. Bisby, poking several pieces of potato with his fork. Mrs. Bisby looked quite flattered that the leader of Giggleswick even knew who she was, much less wanted to meet her. 

“And wait till you meet George, he’s a riot!” Mr. Bisby went on, laughing seemingly to himself as if the mention of George’s name had recalled several amusing incidents from the day. “He’s the other peace patrol officer,” he said, and eventually stopped laughing when he saw that Mrs. Bisby and Elliot were looking at him quite strangely. “Ahem, yes, well ... how was your day, dear?” 

Mrs. Bisby and Elliot bantered back and forth about their activities just as eagerly as Mr. Bisby had done. They mentioned the new furniture, which Mr. Bisby was embarrassed not to have noticed, and after he’d outdone himself articulating how very much he liked it, they told him about the fudge, fogg-fizz, and the insane lady named Trixie they’d seen trolling her roof in high-heels. 

“Oh, that must have been Trixie Trollop! She’s the secretary for the Offices of Tranquility,” he said, seeming happy at first to have a common acquaintance, but his face soon fell into a stumped expression once the bizarreness of his colleague’s behavior had registered. “That is strange,” he said, pondering. “She did strike me as a bit scatterbrained when we met this morning, but ...” 

Elliot and his mother had hoped Mr. Bisby might have had some illuminating inside information to add to the subject, but the vacant look upon his face as he chewed on a piece of ham made it quite clear that he was not in-the-know.

The rest of the evening came and went during which time Elliot and his parents tried out all the new pieces of furniture. His mother became quickly fond of her new chintz armchair, where she sat reading a paperback novel Mrs. Noodle had lent her entitled Gone With the Mist, written by the local romance-novelist Aorta Chambers. Mr. Bisby took to polishing the patrol helmet he’d been given, which was blue and white –– Giggleswick’s colors, he explained when Elliot asked. Elliot meanwhile emptied the clothes from his suitcase into his new chest of drawers and then flopped onto his bed where thoughts of Knicklebeans, dentures, and chimney stacks floated through his head till his eyes drooped shut. When Mrs. Bisby came to tuck him in an hour later, he was fast asleep.