FIELD TRIP

There were thirteen girls and eleven boys. This was the field trip from HELL. Whatever possessed Mrs Oggett to come up with such a trip here of all places was anybody’s guess.

“Now, class,” said Mrs Oggett, “You must be on your best behaviour today. Traffic islands can be very dangerous places, particularly if, like this one, they have never before been explored.”

This was about as cheerful as Mrs Oggett ever got, for she had a well known tendency for spoiling the fun. Just last year, at the Academy for the Progression of Rescue Animals, the children were sitting by the campfire, sharing stories, when a little black and white cat called Tabatha came up to them, tap danced and told a few hilarious jokes.

“Cats are not talking animals!” she chastised, and legend has it that the cat lumbered off forlornly, never to utter anything except “Miaow” again. Similarly, when Phoebe befriended a very intelligent crocodile, and shared her picnic with him, Oggett said loudly, “Crocodiles are violent, predatory creatures!” Poor Phoebe…

“This is boring,” said Stuart, ten, who had already discovered the centre of the traffic island. Mrs Oggett, who had visions of herself as the next Marco Polo or Ferdinand Magellan, was having none of it.

“We are pioneers in a new frontier. Not all of us will make it home to Kirkdale Primary, but those of us who do will be hailed as heroes.”

Frustratingly for Mrs Oggett, the children hadn’t heard a word. They were captivated by the yodelling hedgehog.

“Hedgehogs do NOT make it across roads,” said Mrs Oggett.

This was the last straw for some of the children, who protested by surrounding the hedgehog in the middle of the busy road.

“Bzzerrtrrp,” said Oggett.

The children craned their heads in confusion.

“Rzz sspppt… bleep!” said Oggett.

At first it wasn’t clear what their teacher was up to, but Maryam, always the top of the class, was the first to figure it out.

“She’s trying to communicate with that traffic light!” Indeed, when the children listened carefully, they could hear faint electrical noises from inside the metal pole. Bzz rrp zzt!

“What’s she saying?” said Robert, who was only nine.

“I think she’s trying to buy the island from the traffic light, in return for a pile of disease-ridden blankets and a handful of glass beads.”

Eventually, the hedgehog led the children down the busy dual carriageway and safely back to school. Mrs Oggett was never seen again. Rumour had it she had “gone native”.