by Humza Arshad
‘What?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ she replied. ‘I just don’t usually have friends over for dinner.’
‘This sounds kind of fun,’ said Umer. He was smiling too.
‘It could be dangerous,’ I said. ‘If they catch us, who knows what they’ll do.’
They were both quiet for a time.
‘But you still want to do it, right?’ said Wendy.
‘Course I do!’ I said, grinning. ‘One way or another, we’re gonna take these aunties down!’
Wendy called her mum to ask if it was OK if her friends came over. Her mum was so happy to hear she had friends she didn’t question it for a minute. I phoned my slug-mum to ask her if I could go to Wendy’s for a ‘cake and ice cream’ party, followed by a movie (and more ice cream). She bought it hook, line and sinker.
‘Oooh!’ she squealed. ‘That sounds like a marvellous idea! It is about time we got some meat on those bones!’
‘Yeah, nice one, Mum,’ I said, and hung up. ‘Man, it is weird talking to that thing. It sounds exactly like her, but it just ain’t.’
‘It’ll be OK,’ said Umer, accepting his phone back. ‘This isn’t over yet.’
I nodded. It felt good to have a plan again. Once Umer had let his mum know, we headed to Wendy’s to get supplies for the stake-out.
Fact. Linda Wang is my new favourite person. No question.
All mums should be Wendy’s mum. She was so nice to us! She wasn’t strait-laced like I thought she would be. She wasn’t like Wendy at all. She was fun.
‘Youuuu!’ she said, tearing the door open as we walked up the path. I thought for a second she was angry, but she wasn’t. She was over the moon. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been keeping your good friends a secret from your mum!’ she said, and grabbed me and Umer, dragging us into a big hug.
‘Mum!’ said Wendy. ‘Less!’
‘Oooh, I’m in trouble with Wendy Wang!’ She laughed, with a fake guilty look on her face.
Ha! Even her mum called her by her full name. I liked Linda Wang immediately.
In the kitchen she put out a snack for us, and at first I was going to refuse out of habit, but when I saw what it was I couldn’t help myself. Celery sticks and a low-fat yoghurt dip. Disgusting, right? I know. A few months ago I’d have run a mile. But now? Now it was amazing! It tasted clean. There was no sugar or fat. It wasn’t deep-fried or dipped in chocolate. It was like a tall glass of water after a trek through the desert. Thank goodness for Linda Wang.
‘So what are you kids going to do, huh?’ asked Linda Wang. ‘Would you like to see a movie or play video games? Or just watch a boring documentary with Wendy?’
‘Mum,’ said Wendy, looking annoyed.
‘Oh, you know you love a boring documentary,’ she said, and laughed.
Me and Umer, we laughed too. Then Wendy laughed.
‘They’re not boring. Not to me,’ she said, smiling. ‘But we’re going out. We’ve got a project to work on.’
‘Oh, so much schoolwork,’ said Linda, shaking her head. ‘You have friends here. Play a game. Run around. You will be old soon. Go and have fun.’
‘I am having fun,’ said Wendy, sounding irritated again. ‘Sort of,’ she added.
‘What sort of project are you doing? Need Mum’s help?’ asked Linda Wang.
‘No, we’re just doing a survey on the high street,’ replied Wendy, who seemed to be running out of patience with her mum.
‘I’ll drive you!’ said Linda.
‘It’s five minutes’ walk from here,’ said Wendy. ‘We’ll be fine.’
‘Hang on, Wendy,’ I said. ‘Maybe a car wouldn’t be a bad idea. It’d be more like a proper stake-out. Give us some cover.’
‘Yeah, but …’ replied Wendy, ‘she …’
‘I’d like to sit in a car,’ said Umer. ‘I don’t mind if your mum comes.’
‘Aww, come on …!’ said Wendy.
‘Then it’s agreed! Mum is part of the team!’ said Linda Wang, and she high-fived Umer and me. Wendy left her mum hanging, but Linda didn’t seem to mind.
Ten minutes later we were parked up outside Hamid’s travel agent’s, watching passers-by come and go. Linda was already bored.
‘I’m bored! I’m going to buy a magazine,’ she said, opening her door. ‘Don’t talk to any strangers,’ she added, ‘unless they seem fun.’
Then she was gone.
‘Why did you invite her along?’ snapped Wendy. ‘How are we meant to do this with my mum here?’
‘She’s OK,’ I said, grinning. ‘I like Linda Wang.’
‘Plus, you’ve got a nice car,’ added Umer, bouncing up and down on the seat.
‘Urgh … Fine,’ said Wendy, her arms folded, ‘but let’s not say too much in front of her. Trust me, we’re better off if she’s not overly involved.’
‘So what happens now?’ said Umer.
‘Now we wait,’ I replied. ‘Watch for anything out of the ordinary. Clusters of aunties, that kind of thing. They’ve got to show up sooner or later.’
‘Right,’ said Wendy, ‘but, if my mum asks, we’re just doing a study on pedestrians. Measuring average height or something. She’ll lose interest fast.’
‘You’re not really like her, are you?’ I said.
‘No,’ she replied quickly. ‘I’m not.’
And that’s all she said on the subject.
An hour later we’d not seen any aunties. All of us were losing interest, but no one as much as Linda Wang. She’d read her magazine twice and completed the word search in the back.
‘I’m borrrrrred, Wendy,’ she moaned. ‘Let’s go bowling.’
‘You can go bowling if you want. We need to stay here,’ said Wendy through gritted teeth.
‘Ahhhh …’ groaned her mum, and she flipped back to the start of the magazine.
Outside the car, people made their way in and out of shops. I recognized the odd face. No one looked out of place – no weird smiles, no crazy eyes. Just normal people going about their afternoon. Linda Wang was right: this was pretty boring.
Then, out the corner of my eye, I spotted something. A flash of colour, a blur of movement. We all clocked it at once. Aunties. A pack of them. Six at least. They were waddling down the street in a little clump. Blue, yellow, pink, orange – all the colours of the classic Asian auntie, brilliant against the grey concrete of the high street. But most importantly of all they were surrounding something. Something big. There was someone walking between them. And, despite the distance, it was clear in an instant who it was.
‘Mr Offalbox!’ gasped all three of us at once.
‘They finally got him,’ I said.
They were wobbling up the street towards us, taking funny little steps. They looked like a group of pigeons when they try to run away from you without flying. They bumbled and weaved in and out among one another as they shepherded their enormous prize up the street. They were heading in the direction of the travel agent’s. I had my fingers crossed that I was right about all this.
‘Come on … come on …’ I said.
Closer and closer they waddled. Closer and closer to the front door. Closer and closer to our car. We all sank a little in our seats as they drew up, but they didn’t spot us. Instead they came to a stop right outside the travel agent’s. And then, one at a time, they began to file inside.
Mr Offalbox didn’t look himself as he shuffled past us. His eyes were dopey and half closed. It was the same look the teachers had worn in their holiday photos. He was letting himself be led along without any protest. This was definitely it! They were here for the cover-up!
‘You were right!’ said Wendy. ‘You were right!’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Linda.
‘Shh!’ snapped Wendy.
Linda shook her head and went back to her magazine. We sat in silence and watched. It was hard to see what was going on inside. It was just a mess of colour and movement as the aunties shuffled around the place. Then came a bright c
amera flash, followed by two more. And, a moment after that, the door opened and the aunties began to spill back out.
‘They’ve done it,’ said Wendy. ‘They’ve taken the photos.’
‘Linda Wang,’ I said. ‘Follow those aunties.’
‘Huh?’ replied Linda, looking up.
‘You heard him, Mum,’ snapped Wendy. ‘We need to tail that group of middle-aged Pakistani women.’
There was a short pause as Linda Wang considered this request.
‘OK,’ she said with a smile, and started the engine.
We crawled down the road behind them, keeping a safe distance. The odd car beeped at Linda for driving so slowly, but she just shouted at them out the window.
‘Go round! Go round!’ she yelled. ‘We’re doing homework!’
The aunties never looked back though. Wherever they were heading, they were going there as fast as their stubby little legs could carry them. And the headmaster was still right there at their centre.
We followed them off the high street and along a number of smaller roads. They were the kind of local streets you were sure you’d been down at some point, but couldn’t really remember when. There were fewer shops and houses here. The handful of businesses that remained open looked rough and kind of filthy. One was burned out, another was just an empty lot filled with rubble. It wasn’t the sort of neighbourhood you’d normally expect to find a nice group of aunties in. But that didn’t seem to stop them. They just waddled on like the penguins in that documentary about penguins.
And then they were gone – in through the front door of a big, dirty old warehouse. Linda Wang rolled to a slow stop.
‘That was fun,’ she said, looking round at us. ‘Who shall we follow next?’
‘No one,’ said Wendy. ‘Now we stay here and observe.’
‘Oh, come on!’ said her mum. ‘We’ve been doing that for hours. Let’s go and see a movie.’
‘This is important, Mum!’ said Wendy. ‘We need to see what they do next … for our, uh, homework.’
‘This is weird homework,’ said Linda Wang, shifting her position until she was lower in her seat. ‘I’m going to sleep. You’re boring, Wendy Wang.’
And, with that, she shut her eyes and started to doze off.
‘What do you think it is?’ asked Umer in a whisper.
‘Don’t know,’ I replied. ‘Some sort of headquarters maybe?’
‘Do you suppose this is where they’ve taken all the teachers?’ whispered Wendy.
‘It must be,’ I said.
‘But what for?’ said Umer.
We sat there staring at the big dirty building and imagined what could possibly be going on in there. We knew there was only one way to find out.
We had to get inside.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Warehouse
An hour later the aunties reappeared. It was dark now and their colourful dresses looked dull in the grey-orange street light. Mr Offalbox was nowhere to be seen.
‘They’ve left him behind,’ whispered Wendy, careful not to wake her mum.
Linda Wang was snoring away beside her and hadn’t stirred in ages. This was our chance.
The little group of aunties began to shuffle down the street, popping in and out of view as they slipped beneath the street lights. When they were far enough away, we opened the doors and stepped out into the night. Wendy tore a page from her schoolbook and scribbled a message on it for her mum. It read:
If we’re not back by 9 call the police!
We had no idea what was about to happen but we all knew we couldn’t go back. Every day there was less and less to go back to. Somehow I knew in my bones that this place was the heart of it. This was where the answers lay.
‘How are we going to get inside?’ asked Umer.
‘We could try the front door?’ I suggested.
It was no good though. The aunties had locked it up tight. Even with my face pressed to the glass, I couldn’t see a thing inside. We had to find another way in. We set off to hunt around the edges of the building.
‘Maybe we should just call the police?’ said Umer.
‘And tell ’em what?’ I asked him. ‘We saw some aunties in a bad neighbourhood and got suspicious, so would you mind kicking in a door for us?’
‘We’re getting in a bit over our heads is all,’ he said.
‘We ain’t got a choice. Not any more. If this is where they’ve taken everybody, then this is where we need to be.’
‘Agreed,’ said Wendy. ‘The answers are in here. We have to get inside.’
And that’s when we spotted it – all three of us at once. A half-open window, five or six feet off the ground.
‘Someone, give me a boost,’ I said.
They both just stared at me.
‘What?’
‘No way we can lift you,’ said Wendy.
‘I ain’t that heavy! I’ve been watching my weight! Now come here and pick me up!’
‘There’s a dustbin over there,’ said Umer. ‘Can’t you just stand on that?’
‘Fine,’ I muttered, walking over to the bin. ‘But I’m light as a feather.’
Flipping the metal can over and standing on its end gave me just enough height to reach the window. I pushed it open and peered inside. It was pretty dark – I couldn’t really tell what I was looking at. I glanced about the street one last time to make sure we were still alone.
‘Right, I’ll see you in there,’ I said, and began hoisting myself over the window frame.
‘Be careful,’ said Umer.
‘Course, man, I always – aarrrghghh!’ I yelled, as I fell head first into the warehouse. I bounced off something hard and spun through the darkness, landing in a heap on the floor.
‘Humza?’ shouted Umer. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Urgnn …’ I groaned.
I couldn’t make out what had broken my fall. Some sort of table or counter maybe? Climbing on to it and standing on tiptoes, I pulled myself back up to the window ledge. I popped my head out and looked down at the others.
‘Are you hurt?’ asked Wendy.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ I replied. ‘There’s a table or something in here. We’ll use it to get back out.’
I reached a hand down to help pull Umer up to the window ledge. Wendy pushed his bum and I tugged his arms with all my might. I couldn’t see why they’d brought up my weight. Have you ever seen a hippo birth? That’s pretty much how it looked when Umer finally plopped through the window and into my arms. We fell over backwards with a crash and lay there panting like dogs in a hot car.
Of course, when it came to Wendy’s turn, like everything else in life, she made it look easy, slipping through the gap and landing on her feet before we’d even had a chance to pick ourselves up from Umer’s belly-flop.
When all three of us were inside, Wendy whipped out a powerful little torch and flipped it on. The room lit up. This was not what I was expecting. Firstly, the table wasn’t a table. It looked like a computer of some sort. And not like any I’d ever seen before. Weird displays and flashing lights peppered a control panel so complex it gave me a headache just to look at it. The rest of the room was lined in dark, smooth metallic panels. It did not resemble the inside of a rundown warehouse. Not one bit.
‘What is this place?’ said Umer.
‘I have no idea,’ I replied, taking it all in.
‘It looks futuristic,’ said Wendy. ‘… Advanced technology.’
‘Aliens …’ whispered Umer.
No one said a word. Was that it? Was that the answer? Were these horrible slug-like creatures from outer space? They certainly didn’t look like anything from Earth. Somehow, all of a sudden, I was sure of it. We were dealing with extraterrestrials.
‘This is bad,’ said Wendy. ‘This is really bad.’
‘It ain’t good,’ I agreed. ‘Let’s get out of here as quick as we can. We just need to find Grandpa first.’
‘Right,’ said Wendy, and she pointed her tor
ch towards the distant hallway. ‘After you,’ she added.
‘Umer,’ I said, ‘you can go first if you like.’
‘Me?’ replied Umer. ‘No way – he’s your Grandpa.’
‘No he ain’t! He’s my uncle.’
‘Good enough for me,’ said Wendy.
‘Lead the way,’ said Umer.
Man, these two chickens were gonna make me take all the risks. Fine, whatever. I wasn’t scared …
I tiptoed out of the room and into the corridor. The walls and the floor were made of the same dark metal panels as the control station we’d seen. It looked like some weird, evil Apple Store. You wouldn’t guess in a million years that all this was inside a crummy derelict warehouse in a bad part of town. It was a pretty smart hiding place. Misdirection, I thought to myself. Man, I hoped Grandpa was here.
Wendy’s torch gave us just enough light to see where we were going, though we obviously had no idea where that was meant to be. All I could tell was that we were getting deeper into the building. Even being as quiet as we could, every footstep echoed about the place.
‘I don’t like this,’ said Umer, under his breath.
‘Of course you don’t like it,’ I replied. ‘Why would anyone like this? I hate this. I’d rather be at school than here. I’d rather be playing cricket!’
‘Let’s just find him and get out,’ said Wendy.
‘Uh-huh,’ agreed Umer. ‘Those aunties could come back anytime.’
‘Yeah … or maybe they’re already here …’ I added, and kinda wished I hadn’t.
No one said a word after that, but we all moved a little faster.
It wasn’t long before the corridor came to an end and we found ourselves up against a large metal door. There were no handles, no buttons – just a huge sealed hatch, blocking us from going any further.
‘What now?’ said Umer.
‘We’ll have to go back,’ replied Wendy. ‘Try the other way.’
‘There must be some way to get through,’ I told her. ‘We just need to figure it out.’
‘Figure it out?’ said Wendy. ‘It’s super-advanced alien technology. They could have security systems we can’t even conceive of. We’ll never get through!’