Little Badman and the Invasion of the Killer Aunties

by Humza Arshad

  ‘That is what we must find out,’ he said, leaping up from his bush and nearly falling flat on his face in the process.

  I took him by the elbow and helped him on to the path. It was time to face the aunties.

  There were four of them at dinner that day (five if you count Mum). Each auntie wearing a different-coloured shalwar kameez. Each was surrounded by a half-dozen steaming dishes. Each was forcing food on everyone around them. But how could we know who was in on it and who wasn’t? How could we tell who was a proper auntie and who was an evil auntie?

  All my little cousins were running around playing as usual. They obviously didn’t suspect a thing. Grandpa and I were sitting together at one end of the table, watching everyone. Dad was at the far side of the room, between Uncle Bashir and Uncle Rabi, though he wasn’t talking to either of them. Instead he was just slumped there sulking, occasionally muttering something about that coach Siddiki guy under his breath. The uncles just ignored it, talking across him like he wasn’t there.

  ‘Whatcha reckon, Grandpa?’ I whispered.

  ‘Hard to say,’ he whispered back. ‘Pretty normal so far. Except for all these fat cousins.’

  He was right. These kids were ballooning. It had only been two weeks or so since I’d last seen them, but they’d all put on at least a stone. The adults weren’t doing much better. Uncle Rabi had a triple chin where his double chin used to be, and was having to use an extension cord as a belt. But that wasn’t going to stop the aunties. They kept right on serving dish after dish after dish …

  Eventually, Mum started to politely refuse – which is never easy at an auntie house, even for another auntie. This time, though, the response was crazy. At first, one auntie flocked to her with a dish. Then, seconds later, another one. Still Mum refused their offers.

  Soon there were three of them, each offering my mum something different, each pushing her to have one more bite, just one more … In under a minute all four aunties had surrounded my mum and were holding out spoons of curry and daal and kheer.

  ‘No, really, I am so very full,’ begged Mum, but they wouldn’t listen.

  Eventually she gave in and took another bite, nodding and smiling as she struggled to swallow it. But would they leave her alone? Yeah, right.

  ‘Oh, go on,’ said Auntie Uzma, waving her spoon of biryani, ‘you are just skin and bones, Nausheen!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Auntie Salma, ‘have a little laddoo.’

  ‘Eat, eat, eat,’ said Auntie Noor, waggling a pakora under Mum’s nose.

  ‘This is mental,’ I said to Grandpa. ‘Look at them. They’re obsessed with her.’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said with a nod and a grim little frown. ‘She is an auntie also. They won’t stop until it is done.’

  It took me a moment to realize what he was saying.

  ‘You mean … they want her to join them …’ I gasped.

  Grandpa put his hand on my shoulder but didn’t say anything more.

  This must be how they went about it. Recruiting. It had something to do with the food. But what? How does force-feeding someone turn them evil? None of it made sense.

  I had a bad feeling as I walked into school on Monday morning. The whole place seemed sinister now. Everywhere you looked there was a smiling, cuddly, colourful auntie. Every room you entered had a plate of food, or a bowl of sweets laid out, ready to be snacked on. Delicious, mouth-watering smells had replaced the familiar old stink of the place.

  I found Umer sitting at his usual desk, reading the back of a bag of crisps.

  ‘Why you reading that packet of crisps?’ I asked him as I sat down.

  ‘It’s today’s assignment,’ he replied. ‘Read something delicious, then eat as much of it as you can.’

  I snatched the bag of crisps from him and threw it out the window.

  ‘Hey!’ he said, looking offended. ‘Why’d you do that?’

  ‘It’s the food!’ I whispered. ‘They’re up to something with all the food.’

  Umer looked about the room. There were kids reading sweet packets, ice-cream tubs, fizzy drinks. Kids chomping away on all the most delicious, sugary food you could find in the supermarket. They all looked pretty happy – except for Wendy Wang, who was staring irritably at an apple.

  ‘Did you not understand the assignment, Wendy?’ asked Auntie Uzma from the front of the room.

  ‘No,’ replied Wendy, sounding as annoyed as she looked. ‘I do not understand why we would waste our time with this.’

  ‘That is because you have brought in the wrong type of food,’ said Auntie Uzma, smiling. ‘You were meant to bring in your favourite delicious treat.’

  ‘I like apples,’ said Wendy, not budging.

  ‘But there is nothing to read on an apple but a tiny little plastic sticker,’ replied Auntie Uzma, looking confused. ‘The best sugary, fatty, delicious foods have all sorts of tasty ingredients and additives to read. And, when you’re done with that, you can treat yourself by eating it!’

  ‘I’ll stick with my apple,’ said Wendy, staring hard at Auntie Uzma.

  Auntie Uzma stared right back at her, the smile slipping from her face.

  ‘I think perhaps you are wanting to spend another day with the headmaster, Wendy Wang?’

  ‘Suits me fine,’ replied Wendy, shoving her chair back and storming out of the room.

  Wow, what had happened to this place? Everything was upside down. Wendy was an angry rebel, I was captain of the cricket team and Umer was a hardworking student. I looked over at him and he was reading another bag of crisps.

  ‘Damn it, man, where’d that come from?’ I snapped.

  ‘I brought a family pack,’ he replied.

  ‘Give me that,’ I said, grabbing the second bag of crisps and chucking it out the window.

  ‘Ah, come on, Humza!’ he moaned. ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘What did I just say about doing what these aunties tell you? It’s dangerous!’

  ‘I thought you were happy about all the food,’ said Umer, looking confused.

  ‘I was, but can’t you see? It’s all connected! The missing teachers, the aunties, everyone putting on weight? It’s all part of their plan.’

  ‘What plan?’ asked Umer.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m still working that out,’ I replied, sounding as frustrated as I felt.

  For the rest of the lesson, I did my best to explain to Umer about my and Grandpa’s investigation. I told him about how we’d tried to track down the missing teachers and come up empty-handed. About dinner with the aunties and how weird it had been. I told him about David Chesterton hissing at Auntie Uzma, and the weird auntie meetings Grandpa had observed at the 24-hour supermarket.

  Umer sat and listened to everything. He seemed to be following it all – though I did have to chuck two more bags of crisps out the window when he got hungry.

  When the lesson was over, we headed straight to Mr Offalbox’s office to look for Wendy Wang. She was sitting in the corner reading a book. Mr Offalbox was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Psst! Wendy,’ I whispered from the door.

  She looked up at us.

  ‘Oh, hey,’ she said. ‘You’d better not stay. He’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘How’d it go with the laptop? Did you crack it?’ I asked.

  Wendy nodded. ‘I got in, but there were no clues. Nothing about the teacher absences or all the aunties. Just a normal computer.’

  ‘Damn. That’s a shame,’ I replied. ‘I thought you might be on to something there.’

  ‘Here you go,’ said Wendy, reaching into her bag. ‘I’ve deactivated the password. Do what you want with it, I guess. Doesn’t really matter any more.’

  Wendy sounded more depressed than I’d ever known her. I was just about to reach over and take the laptop, when a shadow fell across the room. We didn’t have to turn round to know who it was. Wendy shoved the computer back into her bag.

  ‘What are you boys doing in my office?’ demanded Mr Offalbox.

&n
bsp; ‘Uh … well …’ I replied. ‘Would you believe me if I said we were helping Wendy with her homework?’

  ‘No,’ growled Mr Offalbox. ‘I would not.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I replied. ‘Well, give me a minute and I’ll come up with something else.’

  ‘Get outside now or the three of you will be in detention for the rest of the week!’ shouted Mr Offalbox.

  ‘You don’t need to tell me twice,’ I said with a smile. ‘Later, OK, Wendy?’

  Wendy nodded, patting the laptop-shaped bulge in her bag. We were out of there faster than you could say ‘five-day-detention’.

  At quarter to four, we were at the school gates, waiting for Wendy to finally be released. They had to let her go sooner or later, right? Whatever the case, I was gonna be real late for getting to Grandpa’s today. Umer’s stomach was rumbling and he didn’t look happy at all.

  ‘When can I have something to eat, Humza?’ he begged.

  ‘You can eat whenever you want, man, but don’t let them pull the wool over your eyes. They’re feeding you up for something.’

  He grumbled quietly to himself for a moment, until he was interrupted by a loud beeping that seemed to be coming from somewhere between us. We both looked around.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Umer.

  ‘I dunno,’ I replied. ‘Sounds kinda familiar though.’

  A moment later it beeped again. It was coming from my bag. Then it hit me. I knew what it was!

  ‘My pager!’ I shouted.

  I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bothered paging me. I pulled the little black box from my bag and opened the message:

  WHERE ARE YOU? WHY AREN’T YOU HERE? CALL NOW! URGENT! GRANDPA

  ‘Quick, I need to borrow your phone,’ I said to Umer. ‘Something’s up with Grandpa.’

  ‘Sure,’ replied Umer, fishing his crusty old mobile out of his bag and handing it over.

  ‘Hello?’ came Grandpa’s voice.

  ‘It’s me – what’s going on?’

  ‘Where are you? You have to get here, now!’ he said, sounding kinda scary.

  ‘I’m still at school. I’ll be there soon though.’

  ‘No. Right now!’ he snapped. ‘I have something.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I found them!’

  ‘Who? The teachers? Where are they?’

  ‘Mount Fuji, Niagara, Grand Canyon – I found the link!’

  ‘The link? What is it?’ I asked.

  But there was no answer. Everything was quiet.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I called out.

  I could hear him breathing. Short, sharp gasps. He was trying to keep quiet. Someone else must be there.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I whispered. ‘What’s going on?’

  For a moment even his breathing stopped.

  Silence …

  Then, with a crashing that shook the other end of the line, I heard him yell.

  ‘Oh no!’ cried Grandpa, his voice full of fear.

  ‘Grandpa?’ I called.

  ‘You!’ he shouted. ‘What have you done with my wife? No! Stop …’

  Click … The line went dead.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Umer, looking afraid.

  ‘I gotta go,’ I said, pushing his phone against his chest. ‘I gotta get to Grandpa’s!’

  And, with that, I ran out of the school as fast as I’d ever run.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Access Denied

  I was gasping for breath by the time I skidded to a stop at Grandpa’s front door. My hands were shaking as I slid the key into the lock. But, when I went to turn it, it wouldn’t budge. I twisted harder, double-checked that I had the right key – it was no good. I couldn’t get in.

  I rang the bell and banged on the door with my fists. No answer.

  ‘Grandpa! It’s me! I’m here!’ I shouted through the letterbox.

  That’s when I saw something inside moving towards me. But it definitely wasn’t Grandpa. It was much too big. The door swung open.

  ‘Hiii-eeeee!’ said Auntie Uzma like nothing at all was wrong.

  ‘Where’s Grandpa? Why doesn’t my key work? Why are you back so early?’ I blurted it out all at once, still gasping for breath.

  ‘Don’t you worry, Humza,’ said Auntie Uzma with a weird smile. ‘Your uncle is going to be just fine. But he has overdone it lately with all his outings and now he must rest.’

  ‘He seemed fine,’ I replied. ‘Actually, he was more alive than I’d ever seen him.’

  ‘Well, you have obviously tired him out then. What have you two been up to exactly?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  ‘Uh, nothing. Magic tricks mainly,’ I answered as fast as I could.

  ‘Well, there will be no more of that. He needs to rest, so you must go home. Here …’ she said, and reached over to a table by the door to pick up a large plate of sweet, sticky jalebis. ‘For your mother. Tell her she has to eat it all. She is still so skinny!’

  I accepted the plate of fried treats and backed away from the door. There was no sign of Grandpa in any of the windows. No sign of anything out of the ordinary – unless you count Auntie Uzma’s eerie grin as she stood in the hall watching me. What the hell was going on? What had she done with Grandpa? Why would she change the locks?

  I dumped the plate of jalebis in a skip round the corner and ran home. There was no way I was gonna help those aunties fatten up my mum.

  I was already shouting before I’d got through the front door.

  ‘Mum! Where are you?’

  There was no answer. I ran through the house, yelling, but there was no sign of her. I figured she must have gone out and I was about to give up when I spotted her from the bedroom window. She was down in the garden, on her hands and knees, beside a big pile of weeds.

  I pulled open the window and yelled down to her. ‘We need to stop Auntie Uzma! We need to stop all the aunties!’

  She looked startled and clearly had no idea where the voice was coming from.

  ‘Up here!’ I shouted.

  Mum looked up at me, holding a muddy trowel up to shade her eyes.

  ‘Stop shouting! The whole neighbourhood will hear you,’ she said.

  ‘Good! They need to hear this. There’s something going on, Mum. The aunties are up to something.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Humza!’ said Mum, shaking her head. ‘If this is your way of getting out of helping Grandpa, it’s not going to work.’

  ‘What are you talking about? I’m trying to help Grandpa! That’s what I’m telling you! He needs help!’

  ‘Sounds like the boy wants to weasel out of it,’ came a voice from above my head. ‘He tried to do the same with cricket!’

  Craning out the window, I looked up to see my dad ten feet above me on the roof. He was on all fours, with a big fistful of gutter sludge in each hand.

  ‘Dad, you gotta listen to me,’ I said. ‘Grandpa’s been kidnapped by Auntie Uzma, and we have to rescue him so we can stop the aunties taking over the world!’

  My dad looked at my mum. She looked at him. They both looked at me. Then they burst out laughing.

  They were still laughing when I pulled the window closed and sat down on the bed. They weren’t going to listen. They would never believe me. I was going to have to get to the bottom of this myself.

  The next day, for the first time ever, I was at school before anyone else. I parked myself by the gates and sat waiting for Wendy to arrive. I had to see her before she got thrown back into the headmaster’s office. Kids started piling in before long; aunties too …

  I was just starting to think that maybe there were no original staff members left in the place, when I saw Mr Offalbox pull up in his funny little car. I say ‘car’ – it was more like a go-kart. It would have made a perfectly good five-seater for a normal family, but with Offalbox behind the wheel it looked like an ape had nicked a dodgem. He had to take the top down just to get in. Anyone in the back seat would have been crushed to dea
th in minutes. Thank God he didn’t have kids of his own back there.

  ‘Humza,’ he said, as he passed. ‘Up to no good, I presume?’

  ‘I’m waiting to see Wendy Wang,’ I replied. ‘She keeps getting in trouble and it ain’t fair.’

  ‘If it wasn’t fair, she wouldn’t be sent to my office,’ replied Mr Offalbox. ‘Though I admit it was a little unexpected to begin with.’

  ‘It’s these aunties, man!’ I cried. ‘They ain’t right!’

  ‘Aunties?’ he said, laughing. ‘What, you mean the volunteers? Come on, Humza. You can’t blame them for your troubles. I tell you, without their help during this staff crisis, the school would have had to close down.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound so bad to me.’

  ‘One day, Humza, you’ll thank me for your education.’ He smiled.

  ‘Yeah, if I live that long,’ I replied.

  Mr Offalbox looked genuinely perplexed at this.

  ‘Just you behave yourself,’ he said, then turned and headed inside.

  It was almost time for the final bell to go, when Wendy appeared at the top of the road. She was trudging in like she really didn’t want to be there.

  ‘Hurry up, Wendy!’ I shouted.

  She raised her head and gave a small wave when she spotted me.

  ‘Hey, Humza,’ she said when she got closer. ‘I suppose you’re after this?’

  She pulled the laptop out of her bag and handed it to me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, slipping it into my own backpack. ‘But I actually wanted to talk to you as well. You look terrible.’

  ‘I hate this place,’ she replied, looking like she might cry. ‘They’ve ruined everything.’

  ‘I agree,’ I said, ‘and I always kind of hated it.’

  I looked around the playground. It was completely deserted. Classes would have started by now. When I felt safe we were alone, I took a step towards Wendy and lowered my voice.

  ‘Listen, I’m one hundred per cent positive there’s something going on with Auntie Uzma,’ I told her. ‘She’s acting super weird now. She won’t let me see Grandpa – she’s even changed the locks.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Wendy. ‘What happened?’