Roald Dahl's Esio Trot Page #2

Even your little stubby legs.

Our love will last a lifetime,

Alfie.

Sweet dreams.

'Oh, how Mr Hoppy wished

she was saying those words to him.'

Not the ones about the little

stubby legs, obviously,

but the others, about love.

His life was now terribly

complicated -

head over heels in love with

a woman whose only interest in life

was a small tortoise.

If only he could find the words

to convince her of his love.

If only I'd been paying attention.

I think I'm on the wrong bus.

That's the problem with stories.

You get swept up in them,

you lose track.

Does he get anywhere?

Does she fall in love with him?

You're going to have to wait,

I'm afraid.

Mr Hoppy knew

he had to say something.

He had to tell her how he felt.

Hello.

Again.

Isn't this perfect?

Grab joy while you can, I say.

Oh...

You're right, completely right.

And I was... just thinking...

wondering, uh...

whether...

And the thing of it is,

we've been neighbours for years.

You live alone and I live alone...

I just wondered whether...

...you know...

Oh, no, you're...

You're right, best,

best leave things as they are.

On the contrary,

I think you've got

a very good point.

It's high time

we got to know each other.

How about dinner tonight?

- That's very kind of...

- Excellent.

I'll pop round about six.

Open-neck shirt, possibly, give you

a glimpse of the old tan, eh?

Yummy.

So, Hoppy, it's wonderful

to have a chance to really,

really get to know you.

Find out about the man

behind the mask, as it were.

Yes, well, I...

It's so easy, in life,

to pass people in the lift

and never really get to grips with

who they are, where they come from.

- That's so true.

- So, tell me everything -

where you were born, where

you grew up, what job you did,

love, life, back problems -

the whole caboodle.

- Well, start at the beginning.

- Well... - Born?

Well, yes, I was born...

Never match my story, I suspect.

I was born in the back

of a Volkswagen Beetle

on Waterloo Bridge.

- Oh. - Dad went over a speed bump

and out I plopped.

Well, that's his story anyway.

- Oh, well, I-I-I...

- It was downhill from there, really.

Dad was in sausages,

we moved to Germany.

I spent from two until eight

feasting on frankfurters

und bratwurst,

and then sent straight back here

to boarding school.

You board?

- No, no...

- Got used to it, though.

Made a wonderful friend, Isherwood.

Huge feet...

tiny ears.

Are you done?

So there I was, assistant manager.

Only 23.

Still allergic to cats,

unfortunately, but...

"You must be joking, Giles," I said,

and walked straight out,

still in full Wonder Woman

costume...

A whole octopus!

But that's enough about me -

what about you?

- Well, we may have to do me next time.

- Nonsense.

What brought you to England?

The full story.

OK. Ah.

My parents brought me here

when I was ten...

- No, you're right. - Unfortunately...

- It's too late.

Let's do same time next month.

It's all about you.

But don't let me forget to tell you

about the Alsatian

and my corduroy trousers.

Well. That's the way it goes,

I guess.

'Mr Hoppy went to bed that night

feeling terribly alone.

'Knowing in his bones

that he always would be alone.

'No Mrs Silver for him.'

Ow!

'He couldn't help but wonder,

'is this all there is?

'Old age is scary and all downhill.'

But the very next morning,

a conversation occurred

that changed Mr Hoppy's life.

Good morning, Mrs Silver.

Alfie's looking well this morning.

Likes his food.

Yes. Well, we both live in hope.

Oh.

What are you both hoping for?

Well, obviously,

that he'll grow a little faster.

Every month I weigh him

on the kitchen scales,

he never puts on an ounce.

Well, no, I believe tortoises

come in different sizes.

There's nothing wrong with Alfie

being one of the small ones.

Oh, don't be silly.

Just think how miserable it must

make him to feel so titchy.

Mm.

We've been stuck on 13oz

since the day he arrived.

Didn't you want to be taller

when you were growing up?

I guess I did.

Yes.

When...

When I was a kid,

I used to wear thick socks to bed.

- What, to make yourself grow taller?

- Right.

I actually read that

"The warmer your feet,

"the deeper you sleep,

the more you grow."

But sadly, all I got was...

stinky feet.

Oh, no... Well, I was tiny too.

Oh.

And then when I was 11,

a boy in my class told me

that kissing made you grow taller.

- No!

- Yes.

So I paid him sixpence every day

to kiss me.

Well, you have to hand it to him.

And I did hand it to him.

On a plate.

Every morning at break.

Mind you, it did make me FEEL taller.

A kiss does that,

don't you think, Mr Hoppy?

I believe it does.

Oh, no.

Size is very important.

And Alfie's just at the beginning

of his size journey.

'That was the seed

that planted the idea.'

And the next day, it got a proper,

full-scale watering.

Alfie any bigger today, Mrs S?

Not a jot.

But I am knitting him

some little socks, just in case.

But I'm not giving up.

One day, I'll find the right food,

and the right exercise regime,

and the right vitamin supplement,

probably something to do

with fish oil.

Then at last we'll both be happy,

won't we, darling?

So, you don't think you'll ever

be totally happy until he grows?

I'm afraid not, Mr Hoppy.

Come on, pipsqueak,

finish your strawberry.

'And that night, the seed

that had been watered blossomed.

'And in Mr Hoppy's brain flowered

a plan to make Mrs Silver happy.

'And he thought if he could make

her happy then maybe, just maybe,

'he might be worthy

of winning her heart.'

HE MUMBLES:

Esio Trot.

Mrs Silver.

Oh, yes?

I think I may just be able

to help with the

Alfie-being-disappointedly-tiny

month-after-month thing.

Oh, Mr Hoppy.

If only you could, I would love

you for the rest of my days.

Oh. That'd be very nice.

The thing is, last night,

I suddenly remembered a conversation

I once had with a friend

at the airline

who'd been a pilot in North Africa

and he told me a conversation that

he once had with a Bedouin tribesman

who told him an extraordinary

tortoise-size-related secret.

- Really?

- Yes.

Oh, tell me! I beg you, Mr Hoppy.

Mrs Silver...

...I am going to lower this...

this piece of paper.

And, by the way, you were right.

Alfie can get bigger. But...

you must read this.

How exciting! What is it?

It's a Bedouin tortoise chant.

Oh, good lord.

"Esio Trot, Esio Trot...

"teg reggib reggib..."

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Hoppy,

I don't understand.

Is this in another language?

Yes and no.

Now, according to the Bedouin...

...tortoises are very

backwards creatures.

So, therefore it's logical that

they would only understand words

that are spoken backwards, you see.

Oh, I see. So "Esio Trot"

is "tortoise" backwards.

- Yes.

- Oh! Oh, yes.

"Esio Trot, Esio Trot..." Yes.

"Emoc no, Esio Trot.

"Worg pu...

".. ffup pu, toohs pu."

There's a lot of "pu's" in it.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Pu is a

very powerful word in any language.

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