The School for Talking Pets

by Kelli Anne Hawkins

  ‘Maybe Bongo can be her family, just for a few days,’ Rusty said to BJ.

  ‘I think she’d like that,’ BJ said, a smile spreading across his face.

  At that moment, Rusty could hardly believe the big man could be so terrifying. Like yesterday, when he’d stared at Rusty and Braithwaite from between the animal hedges until they’d turned and fled.

  ‘Who were those people I saw outside yesterday, BJ? One was huge, and the other was smaller, but sort of muscular looking. Do you know who they were?’

  BJ’s face clouded. He clenched his jaw. ‘I have my suspicions, Rusty. They are up to no good, I fear.’

  Rusty’s alarm must have shown in his expression, because BJ’s face immediately softened. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about. I have it all under control. I’m going to have a chat to Alice today after your next group lesson.’

  Rusty’s eyes widened. ‘Oh no, our next group lesson! That’s this afternoon. What time is it? Have I missed it?’

  BJ checked his watch. ‘No. Well, you’re a little late. Go now and you’ll be fine. Just tell Alice you were having a chat with me.’

  ‘OK, thanks, BJ. Bongo! We have to go.’

  Rusty picked his way across the muddy field and made his way over to the lizards as BJ returned to his discarded hose. Jade changed from green to the blue of Bongo’s tongue, as if in farewell. Bongo hissed a goodbye.

  ‘Nice to meet you, Jade,’ Rusty said.

  He addressed her despite BJ’s assertion that the chameleon couldn’t speak. After spending time at Miss Alice Einstein’s School for Talking Pets, Rusty was getting used to talking to animals as if they were going to answer him.

  ‘I learned to talk,’ Jade whispered as Rusty leaned over to scoop up Bongo. Her voice was husky and she had the same accent as BJ.

  Rusty almost dropped his lizard in shock.

  He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, Jade focused both her eyes on him at once, seemingly with great effort. At the same time, she changed to the colour of the fence, making her difficult to see, then added one word: ‘Secret.’

  Rusty glanced at BJ, but the big man was fiddling with the hose nozzle. Rusty turned back to the almost-invisible Jade and nodded. She immediately became green again.

  Rusty straightened up, cleared his throat and called out, ‘Nice to meet you, BJ. I’d better get back to class, but maybe we’ll see you and Jade around?’

  ‘Nice to meet you too, Rusty. Yes, I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.’

  Rusty climbed back over the fence, putting Bongo on his shoulder as he did so. Before hurrying off, he risked a final glance at Jade. The chameleon watched them from her perch on the fence. She opened her mouth, showing him her sharp little teeth before turning away.

  Rusty couldn’t be certain, but it seemed a talking chameleon had just grinned at him.

  CHAPTER 37

  A LOVESICK SPY

  ‘Wilhelmina! What are you staring at?’

  Kyle scowled at his partner’s back. Wilhelmina stood as still as a statue, just beyond the copse of trees where they’d hidden to have lunch. She stared off into the distance.

  His partner had always been . . . different. Different from Kyle, anyway. She was quiet. Introspective. But Wilhelmina had been particularly strange on this mission: moody, and staring off into the distance a lot. Like right now, for example, she hadn’t moved in several minutes. It made Kyle nervous.

  ‘Hey! What is it? Are you annoyed about the hair thing?’

  Wilhelmina finally turned around, but her eyes were kind of glazed over. She still had a few leaves dotted through her hair from the hedge disguise. One side of her orange afro was missing a triangular chunk; its spherical shape had been shaved off on the other side to a diagonal flat line.

  ‘I told you I was sorry about using the shears on you, but the kid was watching. I had to do something! We’ll get you a proper haircut when we get back to the mainland, OK?’

  Wilhelmina shrugged, apparently not concerned about her wonky hair.

  What’s her problem then? Kyle bit into the beef jerky that comprised their lunch. He ripped some stringy meat off with his teeth. It was hard as leather. The jerky was tasty enough, but Kyle never liked chewing more than he had to. Too much chewing caused cheek wrinkles, and Kyle was not a fan of wrinkles of any sort — at least, not on his beautiful face. Wilhelmina, on the other hand, didn’t care a jot about food. Or wrinkles.

  ‘I have to call Lord Roderick with another update, so can you get back to doing your job?’ he said. ‘Keep an eye out, OK? And don’t go to sleep on me.’

  She nodded, spinning away from him as if she couldn’t do it fast enough.

  That’s rude, Kyle thought, pulling out the radio. He wiped his sweaty palms on his camo pants, hoping Lord Roderick would answer. The truth was, though Kyle talked a big talk, Lady Roderick scared him a little.

  More than a little, if he was honest.

  Rather a lot.

  ‘Hello? Lord Roderick.’

  Phew.

  ‘Kyle Strummer here. Just reporting in, your Lordship.’

  ‘Yes, I know it’s you, Mr Strummer. Who else would be using this channel? What do you have for me?’

  ‘Everything is fine. Well . . . there has been one small hiccup.’

  ‘You know that Lady Roderick and I cannot abide hiccups, Mr Strummer. We didn’t train you to cause hiccups; we trained you to shut down hiccups. What has happened?’

  ‘Nothing major, your Lordship. Certainly nothing we can’t handle.’ Kyle paused and wiped his brow. ‘One of the contest winners might have seen Wilhelmina and me.’

  ‘Has your cover been blown?’

  ‘No, no, no. It’s fine.’

  ‘It must have been the British boy, correct? I wouldn’t expect anything less from one so closely related to Her Majesty, and of course, myself.’ Lord Roderick sounded different; more animated than usual.

  ‘Ah, no, your Lordship. It was the Australian. The one with the lizard. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t realise who we were.’

  ‘Nothing — no-one — must jeopardise this mission, Mr Strummer. Certainly not a colonial.’ Lord Roderick said something under his breath.

  Kyle frowned. It sounded like his Lordship had muttered, ‘I’ll kill any animals that aren’t going to help us.’ But that couldn’t be right. Unbidden, Kyle recalled the softness of Loretta’s fur under his pudgy child’s hand.

  Lord Roderick spoke more clearly. ‘Err . . . I mean to say, be sure to carefully monitor how many and which animals are talking. It will be important for us to know which ones will prove useful to us as agents and which will need to be . . .’ He trailed off. ‘Well, never mind that.’

  A strange unease began to creep over Kyle. ‘Of course, your Lordship. Straightaway, your Lordship.’

  ‘And report back soon.’

  ‘Yes, Lord Roderick. Good —’ The line went dead.

  Kyle wiped his brow again. Had he heard Lord Roderick correctly? Would they really kill the animals that resisted? Were the Rodericks telling him the whole truth about their plan?

  He shook his head. No. The Rodericks didn’t have to tell him their whole plan.

  Kyle worked for them, that was all. Besides, without the Rodericks, he’d have rotted in the orphanage. At least they’d given him a job; a chance for a life of excitement and fun. No, he had to trust his Lordship and Lady Roderick. He had to.

  ‘Wilhelmina,’ he hissed. ‘Let’s go. His Lordship wants us to keep watching the animals.’ Kyle stood up and moved towards his partner, who hadn’t responded. ‘Wilhelmina!’

  He peered past her, trying to see what she was so intently focused on. It was the big tattooed man. The gardener from the school with the muscles even Kyle found impressive — and he found most people’s muscles vastly inferior to his own. The man stood, a hose extended in front of him, spraying a field with water for some unknown reason.

  Kyle shrugged. Whatever. He moved clo
ser and stood beside Wilhelmina, but she didn’t notice. She was too absorbed by the sight of the man hosing. He peered more closely at his partner. Wilhelmina stared at the gardener with a look of . . . longing.

  Was Wilhelmina in love?

  CHAPTER 38

  LADY RODERICK IS A LIZARD-HATER

  Lord Roderick found his wife at their private dock, talking to a man in a white captain’s uniform.

  ‘We’ll take that one,’ she said to the man, pointing at a large, shiny black cruiser with Black Heart stencilled on its side in blood-red type. ‘Have it ready in an hour.’

  The captain nodded and raced off, gesturing for the milling men dressed in khaki to follow him.

  ‘Black Heart. An excellent choice,’ said her husband when Lady Roderick turned to him. ‘Some of our boats are a little fancier, but that one is stealthy. Fast too. It also has a rather relaxing sauna on board, if I remember correctly. I quite enjoy an evening sauna.’

  ‘What news?’ Lady Roderick asked, ignoring her husband’s chitchat.

  ‘Well, it’s possible one of the children — the boy with the lizard — saw our people.’

  Lady Roderick shuddered. ‘Urgh. A lizard. Who keeps a lizard as a pet? Disgusting, slimy animals. Unnatural creatures. Tell our agents to kill it.’

  Lord Roderick had quite forgotten how much his wife detested lizards.

  ‘Rosemary,’ he began, ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to kill one of the children’s pets at this early stage. It might cause suspicion. We’ll be out there ourselves in a couple of days and we can take care of the lizard then.’

  His wife frowned. She’d never been thwarted in her plans to kill a lizard before, but killing it would have to wait. ‘Fine. We wait. But if that filthy lizard comes anywhere near me, I’ll have it made into a very fine pair of lizard-skin heels, do you hear me?’

  Lord Roderick nodded.

  ‘OK then, let’s go. First we take over the talking-pet school, next we take over the world,’ Lady Roderick crooned, looking as happy as he had ever seen her. ‘No-one — child or animal — will stand in our way.’

  CHAPTER 39

  MUSIC AND MUD

  Rusty skidded to a halt at the music room door and straightened his shirt, panting. He’d spent long minutes at the front door scraping mud from his joggers and the rest had dried to a powdery dust as he sprinted down the stairs and through the hallways. He set Bongo on his shoulder, took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

  Inside was chaos.

  As Rusty opened the door, he realised just how good egg-carton soundproofing was. His ears were assaulted by the noise of his classmates and teachers. He’d forgotten how bad they’d been last time.

  Miss Einstein screeched loudly and off-key. Bismarck was howling like he’d been seriously injured. Braithwaite and Maximilian stomped around the room, whacking their tambourines together tunelessly. The other animals all made some sort of noise, including, today, Nader, who sat on a chair at the back of the room. He didn’t sing or meow, however, but played the violin.

  Rusty remembered how impressed he’d been when the posh cat said he could play the violin. However, now that he’d seen and heard Nader play, he felt a little differently. He was still impressed — he was watching a cat play a violin — but Nader was really not very good at it. In fact, he was terrible. Somewhat appropriately, his violin sounded like a wailing cat.

  Miss Einstein twirled around and saw Rusty. She smiled and beckoned him into the room. Rusty mouthed ‘sorry’, but Miss Einstein just thrust a triangle into his hands.

  After a moment, Rusty began tapping it with the attached silver wand. But, before he had a chance to really join in, Nader put down his bow and the cacophony slowly became silence. Rusty looked at Bongo, who hadn’t started hissing this time. Rusty hadn’t felt the same excitement either, but he guessed that was his fault for being late.

  ‘Hmm, hm, hmmmmm,’ Akira still hummed without realising it as she stroked Sora’s puffed-out chest.

  ‘Well done, everyone,’ said Miss Einstein with a contented sigh. ‘I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. A special thank you to Nader for joining us on the violin today.’

  Nader nodded graciously. The children clapped.

  ‘Now if you’ll excuse us, Nader and I have a meeting about the new school, and it’s of utmost importance.’ Miss Einstein spoke with a serious face, then grinned. ‘We are examining swatches to pick the colour of the first level of Mr Nader Heydar’s School for Talking Pets. I’m thinking orange. Nader is keen on blue. Any thoughts?’

  The children broke out into chatter about the merits of orange versus blue, but Rusty’s thoughts kept returning to BJ and Jade — more specifically, to the fact that the chameleon could talk.

  His father was wrong. Not all lizards were lazy and stupid. That was a good sign for Bongo. Wasn’t it?

  After the instruments were packed away, Nader and Miss Einstein took the lift down to the administrative offices. The rest of them decided to detour via the Albert Floor to see the flying machine that Rusty and Akira told them about.

  ‘When do you think Bongo will talk, Rusty?’ Shelby asked as they walked the yellow corridor, her voice quieter than usual. ‘Are you worried? I’m starting to think Porky’s never going to say anything.’ Shelby tugged at the bow in her hair as she spoke and didn’t look Rusty in the eye. She carried Porky in his usual glitzy carrier, but Rusty noticed the American girl’s pigtails were lopsided and one of her long socks had bunched at the ankle. Porky didn’t even have a ponytail on the top of his head. For Shelby, that was virtually neglect.

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Rusty said softly, afraid Bongo might hear him. ‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’

  Shelby nodded and bit her lip. They walked in silence for several steps. Rusty went to speak again, but Shelby beat him to it. ‘It would mean the world to me if my Porky could talk,’ she said. ‘You probably think I talk enough for the both of us. Well, that’s true. I do. It’s just that I’m so lonely sometimes. I don’t know if it makes sense to you, but somehow it’s possible to have tonnes of friends and lots of money and go shopping every day to buy more pink clothes and even have two dads, but you still get lonely. You know?’

  Rusty didn’t know what it was like to have any of that. He couldn’t imagine someone like Shelby — so confident — being lonely. But he did know what it was like to be lonely. He nodded.

  Shelby sighed. ‘That’s what I put in my application to come to this school. I told Miss Einstein how Porky stops me feeling lonely.’ They walked on without talking again, then Shelby shook her hair and laughed. ‘No, I’m just being silly, aren’t I?’ she asked in a brighter voice as she set her pet carrier on the ground and stopped and pulled up the droopy sock, before tugging one pigtail into line with the other. ‘Porky is going to talk. Of course he is.’ She picked up the carrier, lifting it to head height. ‘Of course you are, Porky-worky, aren’t you, baby?’

  Shelby turned to Rusty and gripped his shoulder, speaking earnestly to him. ‘Bongo will talk too, Rusty, you just wait and see.’

  Rusty nodded, but without Shelby’s newly returned optimism. He turned around, hearing animals approaching them from behind.

  ‘Oink. Oink!’

  ‘Snort!’

  ‘Best birthday ever!’

  ‘We told Miss E we’d leave hoofprints, didn’t we? Ha, ha, ha!’

  Rusty’s jaw dropped. He’d expected the pigs to be muddy — he’d even stepped in the mud himself — but he’d never expected this.

  From their snouts to the ends of their curly tails, they were absolutely, totally covered in the black mud. It was impossible to tell which pigs were usually pink, as they were now all the same mud colour. Only their size helped Rusty tell them apart. That, and that the smallest pig was being carried on the back of a large pig, scoffing her face with strawberries, wearing a muddy tiara, and singing at the top of her voice, ‘Happy Birthday to me! I’m not a baby! Take me to my party now! Eighteen and
muddy!’

  Nan cackled hysterically, almost slipping off the larger pig’s back. Her tiara fell askew. ‘Hello, children!’ she called out. ‘Do you like my song? I made it up!’

  ‘No kidding,’ Braithwaite muttered to Rusty as Bismarck pulled him towards the muddy pigs.

  ‘Smells very good,’ Bismarck said.

  Rusty couldn’t agree with him on that score. The pigs did smell, but it wasn’t so good.

  ‘See you later, children!’ called Nan. ‘We’re off to eat more strawberries and maybe even some peanuts before we do some work.’

  The other pigs cheered and moved ahead of them. The children decided perhaps they’d see the flying machine another time; when the pigs were cleaner. Rusty and the others turned around and wandered back towards the lift.

  ‘They were correct about the muddy hoofprints,’ Maximilian grumbled, staring at the black pig-prints that marked the yellow floor like spots on a banana. Ahead, in the middle of the hallway, was a mud-slick that signalled at least one pig — one of the big ones, by the look of it — had slipped over and skidded along for several metres.

  ‘Urgh,’ said Shelby, tiptoeing around the mess. ‘I’m glad Porky is a guinea pig, not a real pig!’

  ‘At least those pigs can talk,’ Braithwaite said lightly, obviously intending it as a joke. He glanced at Rusty and Shelby, saw the looks on their faces and had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean . . .’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Rusty said in a strangled voice. ‘I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you all at dinner.’ He clutched Bongo to his chest and raced down the hallway, fighting back tears.

  CHAPTER 40

  PORKY LOVES PIZZA