The Finding of Freddie Perkins

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Authors: Liz Baddaley
digest, and so probably not worth the risk of including.
    And then Freddie made up a mini-questionnaire to sit under all the different papers.
    1. Does this taste nice?
    2. Is this texture OK for you?
    3. Do you want more of this?
    Freddie then labelled all the samples, and counted them. There were fourteen different types of paper and he was a bit concerned that there was too much for the Fynd to get through in one meal.
    He wanted it to be able to focus on chewing the contents of the experiment rather than anything else, so he decided to save some of its appetite by asking Granny P to make a whole stack of scraps of paper with ticks and crosses on, so the Fynd wouldn’t have to chew its answers.
    Freddie and Granny P worked hard for at least an hour, preparing the experiment. Finally, they were content that it was the perfect test.
    Again they left the dining room, only this time they made the wait less agonising by going for a walk through the garden, and down the hill towards the loch.
    * * *
    Freddie was so excited to be back near the house, and to be so close to the results of his first official Fynd study. But Granny P was finding it slow going up the hill, and eventually he could wait no longer. She smiled at him, and as if sensing his carefully held-in impatience, said ‘Freddie, you go ahead and find out the results. Then you can present your findings just like all scientists do!’
    â€˜Thanks, Granny P!’ he yelled over his shoulder, for he had started running ahead the moment she had begun to say he could.
    Freddie ran up the hill, through the garden, up the path, into the entrance hall, and then paused at the dining room door.
    He realised his mistake, too late of course… he should have come in quietly, tip-toeing into the house, because then he might have surprised the Fynd in the middle of its feast.
    â€˜Oh well, next time,’ he thought to himself, as he pushed the slightly-ajar-door fully open and walked purposefully into the room to survey his results.
    â€˜No way!’ he exclaimed.
    There was nothing left! The Fynd had eaten everything. Ticks, crosses, questionnaire and fourteen different paper samples!
    The only exceptions were three tiny scraps of newspaper print laid out in order to read

    Freddie sunk down onto one of the dining room chairs, still breathless from his run.
    How could you study something if it wouldn’t obey the rules?
    * * *
    When Granny P joined Freddie in the dining room she took in the scene and its implications at once. And as usual, she had thought of something wonderful that Freddie hadn’t even considered.
    â€˜What a delightful discovery,’ she said. ‘The Fynd likes things best that have print on them, so it cancommunicate. I think it wants to be friends with us, Freddie!’
    Freddie felt all his disappointment at the thought-to-have-failed experiment fall away as a rush of excitement took its place.
    â€˜What do you think it will tell us, Granny P?’
    Granny P smiled at him, and then gave him a playful poke. ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out.’
    â€˜What,
now
? Surely it can’t possibly eat anything else after all that paper?’
    â€˜It does seem to be asking for more, Freddie… let’s give it a try.’
    So they did.
    They split up to better cover the house and found as much newspaper as they could from packing crates in the attic, the waste-paper bin in Dad’s study, and the recycling stack by the back door.
    Between them they constructed a massive pile of it on the dining room table. Freddie was a bit worried that it wasn’t safe to leave so much all at once, in case the Fynd ate all of that too and made itself ill. But Granny P said she had a feeling it just wanted to do things on its own terms, and they should trust it to be responsible.
    For the third and final time that day they backed out of the dining room, leaving the door just slightly open, and retreating

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