Dr Boogaloo was in an even worse state.
Each day the waiting room at the clinic became steadily more and more packed as he fell behind with his patients. Every time he opened the book of Boogaloo Musical Cures he ended up on the same page – 308,704 – reading and rereading the same entry – No Laughing Syndrome – hoping to find something he may have missed.
As the weeks wore on, his kind eyes became permanently flecked with worry. His shiny suits lost their sheen and became dull. One day he turned up without a necktie, his suit not only dull but crumpled. His confidence shattered, he relied more and more on Bessie as his knowledge of instruments and musical cures became shrouded by his despair. He didn’t know a bassoon from an oboe, a ukulele from a double bass. Eventually, Doctor Boogaloo stopped seeing patients altogether. He spent all day, every day, and all night, every night, in the Reel-to-Reel room.
‘You’re completely frazzled, luv, you need to sleep,’ said Bessie, bringing the Doctor a cup of sweet milky tea just before midnight.
The Doctor was high up a ladder, riffling through tapes that hadn’t been played for half a century.
‘There’s a Siberian waltz in here somewhere. I want to play it with piccolos and harmonica, maybe add a loop of Tibetan monks chanting.’
‘You need to rest!’ said Bessie. ‘Tomorrow we’ll have a room full of patients again who need you.’
The Doctor climbed down from his ladder. Usually upright as a brand-new pencil, he slumped into his chair, his shoulders rounded with defeat.
‘I can’t help them, Bess. All I can think about is Blue. In three hundred years, no one, not one person, has left the Boogaloo Family Clinic of Musical Cures without a cure. Do you realise that, Bess? I’m the first Boogaloo ever to send someone away uncured. I’ve snapped the string, put a hole in the family drum. I’m a disgrace!’
‘Stop that talk. You did everything you could, Toots. Your family would be proud,’ said Bessie. ‘You just need to sleep.’
The Doctor knew Bessie was right. With other tricky cases, a cure had always come to him at night. An instrument or song would pop up in his dreams. But it was impossible to dream if you couldn’t sleep. Although his family’s reputation weighed heavily on his shoulders, it was a far more terrifying thought that was keeping the Doctor awake. Dr Booglaoo knew that, in two twangs of a banjo, Blue’s childhood would be over. If her laughter hadn’t returned by then, she would never ever laugh again.
CHAPTER 16
Closed for Business
‘Well, you sucked the life out of those Boogaloos, didn’t you, Blue?’ Blue’s mother thrust a piece of paper into Blue’s hand.
‘Now people might sympathise with what I’ve had to go through. I tell you, I can’t get on that plane soon enough. You’ve no idea what a blow this has been to your father and I. You’re worse than you were before! I’m going to Switzerland to check out some of those all girls’ boarding schools. And while I’m there, I’ve planned a tour of the best comedians of Europe to repair some of the damage. There’s no point you coming along, is there? That would be a complete waste of time and money. And an absolute bummer, if you’ll excuse the expression. LUZ! TRACEE! Get my suitcases, will you? They’re upstairs. Outside en suite neuf. I’ll be in the car. MELVIN! Where’s a chauffeur when you need one?’
Pouting like a tropical fish, Blue’s mother made two kissing noises in Blue’s direction and promptly left.
Blue looked at the piece of paper her mother had shoved in her hand.
BOOGALOO FAMILY CLINIC OF
MUSICAL CURES CLOSING DOWN SALE
MASSIVE INSTRUMENT COLLECTION
EVERYTHING MUST GO!
SATURDAY 15th AT 2 PM
Blue felt dizzy. She ran to the kitchen and looked at the calendar. Today was Saturday the 15th.
Her mother was right.
This was all her fault. She hadn’t imagined it was possible for things to get any worse than they already were. But they had. And they were. To think that she was responsible for the closure of the Boogaloos’ clinic! The Doctor and Bessie’s life’s work! It was too much to bear.
A metallic thudding noise descended down the stairs.
BANG …
BANG …
BANG …
‘Aw my gawd. What she got in here? These bags heavier than horse,’ moaned Luz.
Luz and Tracee struggled down the stairs, loaded with gleaming white suitcases and hauled them out to the limo. Blue’s mother was already in the back, sipping champagne and watching reruns of the Queen’s comedy gala special, laughing like a siamang ape from the Sumatran jungle. As Melvin drove off, they waved goodbye.
‘Aw, thank gawd she gone,’ said Luz. ‘My back! I need sit down.’
‘Bathroom twelve not going anywhere,’ said Tracee, flinging a rag over her shoulder.
Completely puffed, they headed for the lounge room. They plonked themselves on the plush white sofas and found Blue with her head in her hands.
‘What’s wrong, Blue?’ said Luz. ‘Is it your mummy? Off on her laughing tour of Europe? Don’t worry, Blue. She go laugh with strangers in dark room. We have party Filipino-style – shake our mabungos!’
Luz got up off the couch and did some swishing movement with her bottom. It looked like it belonged in the inappropriate section of a Snorkel Porkel Laughter Test. Tracee laughed and joined in.
‘I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood for a party,’ said Blue. ‘Read this.’ She handed Luz and Tracee the flyer about the Boogaloos’ closing-down sale. ‘It’s all my fault. If the Boogaloos had never met me, they wouldn’t be closing down the clinic. I’ve ruined everything.’
‘You know what we say in the Philippines?’ said Luz.
‘No,’ said Blue.
‘As you go through life, watch the doughnut, not the hole.’
‘I never heard that!’ said Tracee.
‘No? Where you been? Famous Filipino saying. Anyway, sound like jumbo jet in here, hard to think. Don’t worry, Blue. Every
