Chapter Six

It had been a long, long journey from America to Sodbury Chippington. Eventually, after what seemed like ages, the passengers had been allowed to "board" the plane. That meant that they had all queued up, handed over their tickets and something called a passport, which explained who the people were and where they lived, and then got onto the big metal bird.
Cody had cried until he could cry no more, then he had fallen asleep in his seat and had even missed the moment when the plane "took off" - which meant a man called a pilot had started the engine which made the plane move and it had then gone faster and faster until its wheels left the ground and it had soared into the air.
After a while he had woken up and watched a children's film on the little television which was somehow stuck into the seat of the person in front of him. His mum had given him a set of headphones, two little plugs hanging onto a string which plugged into the TV, which he put in his ears so that none of the other passengers could hear the programme he was watching.
On board the plane ladies and gentlemen called cabin crew walked up and down between the seats asking if everything was alright, and providing them with their dinner in little metal trays.
They seemed to be on the plane for a very long time.
On occasion Cody didn't even realise he was up in the sky, until he looked out of the window and saw the clouds rushing by. He was above the clouds!
His mum tried to make him feel better by buying a new colouring book and some crayons from the nice stewardess, the member of the cabin crew who was looking after them. But although he managed to colour in a few pictures, he still felt miserable that he had lost all his other things, his sweets and, most of all, his favourite toy Stripey.
Eventually a voice boomed out, announcing that they would soon be landing at the airport in England, where they would get off the plane and make their way home. But there was still lots to do.
Once they had arrived they had to sit around a big, round thing called a carousel, which moved and brought around the suitcases that everyone had taken with them on their holiday. One by one everyone picked up their suitcases, put them on trolleys, and pushed them out of the airport to waiting buses, cars and trains.
Cody and his family first had to get onto a bus where a kindly driver rubbed his head and asked him if he had enjoyed his holiday. He said he had but it was pretty obvious looking at his face that he was tired and a little bit unhappy. "Cheer up, sport," said his dad. "I told you I will get your bag back, and I will."
After a short journey they got off the bus and then walked through a place full with loads and loads of cars. Eventually they found dad's blue one, put the suitcases is the boot, and set off for home. Within five minutes Cody was asleep again.

He woke up to find his dad lifting him out of the backseat and carrying him up the drive of their house. It seemed so long since he had last seen his little home and when they got inside his dad said: "Right, it's very late, time for you to go to bed, Cody."
It didn't seem late, however. The sun was coming up and the birds were singing outside.
"Dad, it's not even night any more," he said.
"I know, son, but that's because it is a different time in this country than it was in America. Many of the countries in the world have different times, but you have been up for ages and little boys need their sleep."
When he got into his bedroom he saw his other toys and quickly gave them a cuddle. It appeared they were glad to see him, too. His dad gently took off his clothes and put on his pyjamas, which were covered in pictures of his favourite tv character Thomas the Tank engine. He got under the sheets and, though he really did feel tired, he lay awake thinking about his holiday for a while.
As he did, he heard his dad speaking to someone in the next room. "That's right, it is a little boy's rucksack," his dad was saying, "it is covered with pictures of footballers. Please, if you find it, can you send it back to us, I don't mind paying for the postage. It's just my son is very upset about losing it, particularly the toy tiger he has in it, and it will break his heart if he doesn't get it back... ok, ok, that's good. Yes, I really hope you find it, too."

A long, long way away, the little bear and the tiger were starting to get bored. They had sat in the bag, on some kind of shelf, for ages and ages, but nothing had happened. They had seen no more sign of Ridsdale, and the people who had come in were gone, it was extremely dark and pretty cold, too, even though they were both protected by their fur.
Time drifted by and eventually they saw light sneaking in through the top corner of the bag. Eventually it got lighter and lighter until they realised the new day had started. Only a few more hours to the next game, thought the bear, wondering how on earth he was going to get out of this trap he was in.
Finally, they heard movement outside. Then a voice said, "yes, that's right, it has got a picture of some soccer players on it, have a good look around will you."
"No problem, boss," said the voice of the lady who had screamed the night before, when she had seen Ridsdale.
They heard her walking up and down for a while and then exclaim, "yes, here it is. It says England on it and has a big red cross on the front."
"That will be the one. The person phoned from England and said his son was very anxious to have it back," said the man.
The next minute they felt themselves being lifted again. "Hang on, hang on," shouted the little bear. "I shouldn't be in here. I don't belong in this bag. This is my home, Fenway Park, not England."
But no one could hear his protests. Stripey, trying to calm down his new friend, said: "Oh well, looks like you are coming home with me. If it makes you feel any better, England is a lovely country, and I am sure you will like it."
The bear wasn't so sure. He had heard rumours about this other place. And the most alarming of them all, was that they didn't play baseball there.