Frankie Fish and the Sister Shemozzle

by Helliar Peter

  ‘Grandad! What’s wrong?’ said Frankie, alarmed.

  ‘Look – look – LOOK!’ spluttered Grandad.

  Everyone turned to where he was pointing. A vendor had set up a small table at the edge of the square, selling all manner of unusual goods – slightly rusty knives, rugs and animal skins. And then Frankie spotted what had set Grandad off.

  Right behind a display of lumpy, misshapen pottery was a familiar-looking man with curly hair that looked like it had slipped from the top of his head.

  ‘It’s him! The con artist who stole our sculpture!’ yelled Grandad. ‘Get him!’

  CHAPTER 23

  FEET OF CLAY

  Frankie was fully expecting the man to scoop up his things and take off when he saw the group hurtling towards him. But he didn’t look even slightly fazed – not even when Grandad jabbed his gnarly finger right in his face.

  ‘Yer a thief!’ cried Grandad. ‘A scoundrel! A cad!’ (Grandad appeared to be going through every historical insult he could think of, in the hope of finding one that worked with this guy.)

  The man looked Grandad up and down. Frankie ran up beside Grandad and positioned the padlock in range as the man began to speak.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ said the man snootily, standing behind a table laden with hundreds of grey blobs and other various pieces of ‘art’.

  ‘Yes, ye DO!’ bellowed Grandad, pointing at the table. ‘Me wife made one of these sculptures and ye stole it!’

  The man feigned shock. ‘Excuse me, I have never stolen anything in my life! You GAVE it to me, remember?’

  Lou, in her typical diplomatic way, tried to calm everyone down. ‘There’s been a misunderstanding,’ she said to the man, as Grandad’s purple face went red. ‘It’s a portrait of me and has sentimental value, so could we please have it back?’

  As always, her Ancient Greek was perfect – and for the first time, Frankie realised that he was a little bit impressed by his sister. But it wasn’t enough to get the statue back.

  The man folded his arms across his pot belly and shook his head. ‘No way. It’s mine. It’s pretty ugly, but even if I don’t sell it, it’s useful for stopping things blowing away.’

  Grandad clenched his fists. ‘I don’t think ye realise who yer up against,’ he roared, shoving his hook into the man’s chest. ‘Why don’t ye ask me what I did to the last person who stole from me?’

  Grandad sounded totally menacing, and the man was clearly shocked – but nowhere near ready to give up.

  ‘Look, I’ll make you a deal,’ the con man said with a smirk that would make snakes proud. ‘You can have your sculpture back, but only if you can identify it within thirty seconds without touching any of them. Starting … NOW.’

  Grandad’s face went a little blank because, as proud as he was of Nanna Fish’s foray into sculpting, he couldn’t really tell her work apart from any of the other grey blobs on the table, especially without checking for a signature. And Lou, judging by the look on her face, had the same problem. Drew himself was the picture of panic.

  But time was ticking faster than a stink bomb. Knowing that this could be their only chance, Frankie hunched down and rapidly scanned the many lumpy blobs in front of him. They all looked similar, there was no doubt about it. But then his eye caught one in the middle. Without even thinking, he pointed at it. ‘That one!’

  Grandad looked as confused as a seal in a library. ‘How do ye know?’

  Frankie smiled at his sister. ‘You see that bit at the bottom? That’s your right foot – you often poke it out when you’re really concentrating. And see how the top bit is on an angle? That’s because you tilt your head when you’re listening to people.’

  Lou caught herself tilting her head and grinned. ‘Oh, I didn’t realise I did that.’

  ‘Yep, you do,’ smiled Frankie before adding confidently, ‘this is definitely the one.’ And, just to confirm his suspicions, he picked it up and tipped the sculpture slightly to see Nanna’s name and the date she’d made it – many, many years into the future.

  The con man snatched the sculpture back from Frankie. ‘You’re wrong, bad luck, no go!’ he said, but everyone knew he was lying. ‘And I could take down any of you anytime I like,’ the man added, puffing out his chest.

  ‘Is that right?’ said Drew, stepping forward. ‘Have you not noticed this wreath on my head?’ he said, pointing to the fake winner’s wreath he’d bought outside the Games.

  The man raised one eyebrow sceptically. ‘Are you trying to tell me you’re some kind of athlete?’ He sniggered. ‘In what field, exactly?’

  Drew puffed out his chest. ‘In the noble field of hacky sack!’ he declared.

  ‘Drew,’ muttered Frankie. ‘I really don’t know if this is a good idea.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Frankie,’ Drew said out of the corner of his mouth, covering the padlock so that it wouldn’t translate. ‘I know what I’m doing.’ He whipped a hacky sack out from the folds of his robe.

  ‘Do you know of the hacky-sack challenge, sir?’ he asked the man.

  Frankie groaned, but the con man looked at Drew with narrowed eyes. He placed the sculpture back on the table and stepped out from behind his stand. ‘I’m always up for a challenge,’ declared the man shrewdly, suddenly looking a lot bigger and fitter.

  Frankie saw Drew gulp, but his best mate wasn’t finished yet.

  ‘Well,’ Drew said slowly. ‘I throw the hacky sack into the air and then I prevent it from hitting the ground by kicking it upwards with my foot, like so.’ He demonstrated a few fancy moves. ‘And you just need to keep it in the air the longest.’

  The man nodded. ‘Looks easy. Pass it here.’

  ‘Sure thing!’ said Drew brightly. He caught the hacky sack on his foot, but instead of passing it gently … he flicked his foot and whipped the small sack at top speed towards the man.

  ‘Ahhh!’ the man cried. As he ducked out of its path, Drew reached over and grabbed the sculpture.

  ‘RUN!’ he yelled at the others and then took off through the crowd, the sculpture tucked under his arm, the con man in hot pursuit.

  CHAPTER 24

  THE GREAT ESCAPE

  The group dashed and stumbled and leapt their way through the narrow streets of the village, around corners and down alleyways until they stopped, exhausted and dripping sweat, in another square, also crammed with revellers from the Olympic Games.

  ‘I think we lost him,’ panted Drew, looking around to hand the sculpture back to Grandad.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Grandad, gruffly. ‘I don’t know if that was the smartest way to get it back, but I guess it did the job.’

  ‘Who needs to be smart when you’re simply awesome?’ Drew replied.

  ‘So can we go now?’ asked Frankie. He had the distinct feeling that people were staring at them – and not in a friendly way. One of them pointed at Lou’s hair and then mimed throwing a javelin.

  Oh no! Frankie clutched Lou’s arm. ‘Lou!’ he hissed. ‘I think they’ve worked out that you’re a girl.’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ said Lou. ‘Well, maybe I should go and reason with them about it. When I was at the Academy –’

  ‘Somehow,’ Drew interrupted, ‘this mob doesn’t look like the reasoning type!’

  Sure enough, the crowd had begun to yell furiously and brandish flags in the air.

  ‘OK, let’s run this way!’ commanded Frankie, starting to head down another street.

  But they quickly stopped short – for coming up from the other direction was the con man who’d stolen the sculpture. And it looked like he’d convinced some other burly shop owners to help him out!

  ‘We’ve made quite an impression on the locals, haven’t we?’ quipped Drew.

  ‘It will take an intervention from the gods to get us out of this!’ said Alexi.

  ‘Lou, fire up the suitcase and get us out of here,’ whispered Frankie urgently.

  ‘OK – I just hope the glue has dried,’ said Lou, o
pening the case while Grandad quickly drew a (slightly wobbly) circle of safety around the gang. The last thing they wanted was to bring a furious local along for the ride.

  Frankie clamped a hand over Alexi’s eyes as the angry mob closed in. ‘What are you doing?’ complained Alexi.

  ‘There are scenes you can see, and scenes that can’t be unseen, see?’ said Frankie (who was getting a taste for riddle-talk). ‘It’s for your own good, basically.’

  ‘The glue on the suitcase isn’t quite dry yet!’ announced Lou with dread. ‘It’s highly likely that we’re about to freefall through time for all eternity.’

  ‘Oh well, it’s been a hell of a ride but all good things have to come to an end,’ Grandad declared with an unwelcome air of defeat.

  Then, as the mob came closer, a sound echoed through the air.

  ‘Heehaw!’

  This ‘heehaw’ was completely different from the old, tired ‘heehaw’ that the gang had heard before. As the mob parted, Alessandro appeared, still dragging the chariot, his head high, his chest puffed, willing and able to kick anyone who got in his way. In that moment, he really did look like the noblest steed in the land.

  ‘Alessandro!’ screamed Alexi as he hugged his donkey. ‘I knew you’d come back!’

  ‘Quick, jump in,’ Grandad barked.

  Lou picked up the Sonic Suitcase.

  ‘Keep it open so the sun can dry the glue,’ Frankie suggested.

  ‘Great idea, little bro.’ Lou smiled as she boarded Alessandro’s chariot.

  By now, the mob was pushing in towards the time-travellers. ‘It’s only a stupid donkey!’ yelled one angry athlete. ‘Let’s get them!’

  Frankie had no idea if the translating padlock worked for donkeys, but, judging by Alessandro’s reaction, he understood the insult. Letting out an ‘heeeeehawww’ that would scare a pride of very proud lions, Alessandro rose on his two hind legs and pawed the air, scattering people left and right.

  And before Frankie could say ‘I feel the need, the need for a noble steed,’ Alessandro was whisking them through the alleyways of Mount Olympus.

  ‘I am going to be the God of Getting Away!’ cried Alexi, and for once Frankie had to agree.

  ‘It might be worth trying the suitcase again. This Ancient Greek sun is really hot and the glue looks dry,’ Lou announced with near-perfect timing. ‘Though I think the rainbow transmitter might have broken …’

  ‘Try what? What are you doing?’ Alexi squeaked.

  ‘You know that thing you said about the gods intervening?’ replied Frankie. ‘Well, it’s about to happen. But mere mortals like us – and yes, you’re a mere mortal too, Alexi – aren’t allowed to watch. Now, repeat after me: happy travels …’

  And in a flash, the group – and Alessandro – were gone.

  It was difficult for Frankie to keep his hand over Alexi’s eyes as they swirled and spun through time, but luckily they didn’t have to go very far. Lou had set the suitcase to bring them back to the Academy exactly two weeks after they’d left Mount Olympus, to protect the time path.

  Still, Frankie was glad he’d managed to keep Alexi from seeing what happened. He wasn’t quite sure how he would’ve explained the sight of Superman tap-dancing on the top of the Eiffel tower.

  Lou had somehow set the co-ordinates so that they landed comfortably on a large patch of grass in a secluded spot in the Academy’s courtyard garden. Alexi jumped to his feet. ‘That was amazing!’ he said. ‘Are you sure you are not gods?’

  ‘Speaking personally, I –’ Drew started to say.

  ‘We are definitely not gods,’ said Frankie firmly. ‘We just hitched a ride with one. We’re actually very ordinary people.’

  ‘Well, ordinary or not,’ said Alexi, ‘I’m glad I met you.’

  Lou gave Alexi a hug. ‘We’re glad we met you too,’ she said. ‘Aren’t we, guys?’

  ‘Well, speaking personally, I –’ Drew started again before Frankie, once more, cut him off.

  ‘Yes. We are.’ And the funny thing was that he actually meant it.

  Alexi smiled. He looked at Frankie, then at Lou, then back at Frankie. ‘You two don’t realise just how similar you are.’

  Frankie and Lou looked at each other almost shyly. For the first time, Frankie could see and feel the resemblance and, even more importantly, a connection to his big sister. And it wasn’t just that they had the same knobbly knees or slightly crooked teeth.

  ‘I can see it now,’ said Lou, smiling.

  ‘Me too,’ replied Frankie with a grin.

  Beside him, Drew rolled his eyes playfully, but he was smiling, too. ‘Alexi, do you want to see a trick?’ he said, with a meaningful glance at the others. ‘You can never have too many tricks up your sleeve,’ he added cheerfully, producing his back-up back-up hacky sack from his robes, expertly kicking it from knee to foot.

  ‘Right,’ said Frankie, winking at his best mate. ‘This trick is the greatest disappearing act since the Amazing Freido.’

  ‘Who is this Amazing Freido?’ Alexi asked, perplexed.

  ‘Oh, er, it doesn’t matter,’ replied Frankie as sheepishly as a sheep on National Sheep Day.

  Drew dug his heel into the dirt road and began drawing a circle around the group.

  ‘For this trick to work, you’ll need to stand over here, turn around and, ah, count backwards from one hundred to one,’ said Frankie. He took Alexi by the hand and led him far away from the Circle of Safety, just next to Alessandro.

  ‘Thanks for showing us around, Alexi,’ Frankie said, ‘and thanks for helping bring me and Lou together, too.’ Then he added in a whisper, ‘Good luck with becoming a god, Alexi, but it’s OK if you don’t. I’d rather a good person over a vengeful god any day.’

  He darted back to the group and typed some numbers into the Sonic Suitcase. Lou noticed the destination and gave Frankie a funny look, but he just smiled. ‘I want to show you who REALLY did the flour prank,’ he whispered. ‘Trust me.’

  ‘Now, Alexi, it’s really important that you keep your eyes on the hacky sack because you’ll need to catch it, OK?’ directed Drew.

  ‘OK,’ confirmed Alexi, ‘I won’t take my eyes off it, I promise.’ And with that Drew kicked the hacky sack high into the fresh Athens air.

  The last thing Frankie saw was Alexi, looking skyward, and a rather confused Alessandro (who wasn’t following Drew’s directions and was staring at Frankie) as the world began to swirl and spin.

  CHAPTER 25

  TiME FOR A DETOUR

  The usual kaleidoscope of colours whizzed past as they rushed more than two thousand years into the future. Frankie’s eyes were as wide as saucers as Ariana Grande did a perfect bottle-flip, while Oprah Winfrey clapped wildly. Beside him, Lou’s arms were stretched out for miles and she was wearing the hugest grin Frankie had ever seen. Meanwhile, Grandad appeared to be wearing a hula skirt and a bra made out of coconuts (yep, time-travel never ceases to be weird!).

  The trip back to their timeline was infinitely more enjoyable than the trip away. As the whirlwind died down, Frankie could almost taste Nanna Fish’s homemade biscuits and blueberry pancakes – but they weren’t heading back to Grandad’s just yet.

  Paper, well-worn carpet and a faint trace of dust.

  Those were the things that Frankie could smell when he and the others landed with a thud in the history section of St Monica’s library.

  One by one, everybody sat up and shook their heads.

  ‘Where are we?’ Grandad mumbled, trying to get his bearings, which was difficult given he’d never been in St Monica’s library before.

  ‘More importantly, when are we?’ asked Drew, who had only been in the library a few more times than Grandad.

  ‘Sssssh,’ Frankie cautioned, pressing his index finger hard against his lips. ‘I have a feeling I know who did the flour prank, but I want to be sure,’ he explained in a low voice. ‘If we’re quiet, we should be able to see them and then go without disrupting any timelines.�
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  He pushed aside a thick copy of Ancient Egyptian Tombs, then gestured for Lou to look through the gap.

  There was nothing to see except the empty front desk of the library. The ceiling fan hung right above it, still and silent.

  ‘Um, what am I supposed to be looking at here?’ said Lou.

  ‘Good question,’ said Drew, who had removed a book about World War II aircraft to give himself a good vantage point.

  Not wanting to miss out, Grandad pulled out a book about the Russian Revolution. He wasn’t impressed. ‘If I wanted to stare at an empty room,’ he muttered, ‘I could do so from the comfort of my bath. Which I’m overdue for, by the way,’ he added as he gave his armpit a sniff, which he instantly regretted doing.

  ‘I know, I can smell you from here,’ said Frankie. ‘But just wait a bit longer!’

  The library was always quiet, but the pale light streaming through the windows made one thing clear: it was so early that the library wasn’t even open yet.

  Just then there was the sound of the library’s doorhandle turning.

  Lou looked at the nearby clock on the wall in surprise. ‘It’s only ten to seven,’ she whispered. ‘Miss Davis never gets here before seven-thirty.’

  The group fell silent as the sound of the doors opening echoed through the empty library. It was followed by the sound of footsteps, and then a chair being dragged across the floor.

  They all craned their necks, but they couldn’t see who it was. Until suddenly …

  … the chair, and the intruder, appeared right in front of the lending desk. The intruder was carrying a large bag of flour, and yet it wasn’t Mosley triplet one, two or three. Oh no.

  It was none other than Lisa Chadwick.

  That’s right! Lisa Chadwick – teacher’s pet Lisa Chadwick, school prefect Lisa Chadwick, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Lisa Chadwick, future President of the World Lisa Chadwick. That Lisa Chadwick.