A Blink of the Screen

day the gnomes tried to sleep, and when the store emptied for the night the head gnomes called them all together. They decided that the only thing to do was to leave the store. But where could they go?
    Rincemangle stood up and said: ‘Why don’t you go back and live in the country? That’s where gnomes used to live.’
    They were all shocked. One fat gnome said: ‘But the food here is so marvellous. There’s wild animals in the country, so I’ve heard tell, that are worse than cats even!’
    ‘Besides,’ someone else said, ‘how would we get there? All three hundred of us? It’s miles and miles away!’
    Just then two gnomes burst in dragging a saucer full of blue powder. It smelt odd, they said. They’d found it in the restaurant.
    Rincemangle sniffed at it. ‘It’s poison,’ he said. ‘They think we’re mice! I tell you, if we don’t leave soon we’ll all be killed.’
    Featherhead said: ‘I think he’s right. But how can we leave? Think of the roads we’d have to cross, for one thing!’
    As the days passed things got worse and worse for the gnomes. Apart from the cat, there were nightwatchmen patrolling the store after everyone had gone home, and the gnomes hardly dared to show themselves.
    But they couldn’t think of a way to leave. None of them fancied walking through the city with all its dangers. There were the lorries that delivered goods every day, but only a few brave gnomes were prepared to be a stowaway on them – and, besides, no one knew where they would stop.
    ‘We will have to take so much with us!’ moaned the Head Gnome, sitting sadly on an empty cotton reel. ‘String, and cloth, and all sorts of things. Food, too. A lot of the younger gnomes wouldn’t survive for five minutes in the country otherwise. We’ve had such an easy life here, you see.’
    Rincemangle scratched his head. ‘I suppose so, but you’ll have to give it up sooner or later. Where’s Featherhead?’
    Featherhead, the gnome Rincemangle was staying with, had led a raid on the book section to see if there were any books about living in the country.
    Towards dawn a party of tired gnomes came back, dragging a big paper bag.
    ‘We were almost spotted by the nightwatchman,’ muttered Featherhead. ‘We got a few books, though.’
    There was one in the sack that had nothing to do with the country. Rincemangle looked at it for a long time.
    ‘
Teach Yourself to Drive
,’ he said. ‘Hmmm.’ He opened it with some difficulty and saw a large picture of the controls of a car. He didn’t say anything for a long time.
    Finally the Head Gnome said: ‘It’s very interesting, but I hardly think you’re big enough to drive anything!’
    ‘No,’ said Rincemangle. ‘But perhaps … Featherhead, can you show me where the lorries are parked at night? I’ve got an idea.’
    Early the next evening the two gnomes reached the large underground car park where the store’s lorries were parked.
    The journey had taken them quite a long time because they took turns at dragging the book on driving behind them.
    And it took them all night to examine the lorry. When they arrived back at the toy department they were very tired and covered in oil.
    Rincemangle called the gnomes together.
    ‘I think we can leave here and take things with us,’ he said, ‘but it will be rather tricky. We’ll have to drive a lorry, you see.’
    He drew diagrams to explain. A hundred gnomes would turn the steering wheel by pulling on ropes, while fifty would be in charge of the gear lever. Other groups would push the pedals when necessary, and one gnome would hang from the driving mirror and give commands through a megaphone.
    ‘It looks quite straightforward,’ said Rincemangle. ‘To me it looks as though driving just involves pushing and pulling things at the right time.’
    An elderly gnome got up and said nervously: ‘I’m not sure about all this. I’m sure there must be more to driving than that.’
    But a lot of the younger gnomes were very enthusiastic, and so the idea took hold.
    For the rest of the week the gnomes were very busy. Some stole bits of string from the hardware department, and several times they visited the lorries at night to take measurements and try to find out how it worked. Meanwhile the older gnomes rolled their possessions down through the store until they were piled up in the ceiling of the lorry garage.
    A handpicked party of intrepid mountaineering gnomes found out where the lorry keys were kept