Frankie Fish and the Viking Fiasco

by Peter Helliar

  ‘Did you see your grandad?’ Drew asked, his curiosity practically dripping through the phone. ‘Did you find out if he really does have a girlfriend?’

  ‘He was definitely acting weird,’ Frankie admitted.

  ‘I think all old people act weird,’ said Drew reassuringly. ‘It’s like they get to a certain age and say to themselves, “I’m going to be weird now. I’m going to wear my dressing gown to the movies and grow a beard like a wizard.” Or, in your grandad’s case, “I’m going to build a time machine and get a secret girlfriend”,’ Drew chuckled.

  ‘I guess,’ said Frankie, who really didn’t want to contemplate what was going on with his grandad right now. ‘Hey, wanna come over for a sleepover?’ He could practically hear Drew’s grin on the other end of the line.

  ‘Duh! I’ll be there faster than you can say dorky dad fashion.’

  Frankie knew that ever since last semester’s school assembly prank, when he and Drew had unfurled a fake banner that had led to all kinds of trouble, Drew Bird wasn’t exactly his mum and dad’s favourite person. But if they didn’t notice the Viking kid in the rumpus room then they probably wouldn’t notice Drew Bird either. At least, that was what Frankie was banking on …

  Ron and Tina Fish were absolutely pooped when they got home after a hectic day of removing wasp nests and wiping up mouse-plague poo.

  They were greatly relieved (and more than a little surprised) when Frankie informed them he had made himself dinner. Tina kissed him on the forehead. Then she frowned.

  ‘Did you hear something just then? It sounded like it was coming from the rumpus room. A sort of … thumping, shuffling, moving around sound.’

  Frankie coughed nervously.

  Ron groaned. ‘Don’t tell me we’ve got some kind of pest in our own house,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’d better go and have a look.’

  ‘No, don’t!’ Frankie said, a bit too loudly. His dad gave him a curious look. ‘Um … it’s just …’ Desperately, Frankie tried to think of something, anything, to tell his parents that would keep them away from the rumpus room. ‘I’ve been making a Halloween costume down there,’ he said. ‘I had to … er… move some boxes around. One of them must have fallen over, that’s all.’

  There was another thump, followed by a shout.

  Frankie felt all the blood drain from his face. ‘That’s just the telly,’ he said hurriedly, ushering his parents away from the rumpus room stairs. ‘I was … um … watching a show about Vikings. While I was making my costume. I better hurry back and finish it, the parade’s tomorrow!’

  ‘Oh, I’d forgotten about that,’ Tina said, stifling a yawn. ‘Can I see it?’

  ‘NO!’ Frankie shouted. ‘I mean … er … no. It’s going to be a surprise! Why don’t you and Dad have an early night instead?’

  ‘OK …’ said Tina, already heading down the hall. Ron followed her, and Frankie heaved a huge sigh of relief. But Ron had only been gone a moment when he stopped and turned around.

  ‘Hey, Frankie,’ he said.

  Frankie swallowed nervously. What if his dad insisted on checking the rumpus room for pests? ‘Yes?’

  ‘I’ve been pretty busy lately, haven’t I? How about we have a day soon where we just hang out together. We could kick the footy or see that new superhero movie?’

  Frankie nodded. ‘That’d be great!’ he said, feeling both very relieved and very happy. But almost immediately, his good feeling was replaced by a bad one. Birger and Brynjar no longer had a father to do whatever activities it was that Vikings did with their dads.

  Frankie forced a smile at his dad, and tried to squash the thought down. Right now, he had to concentrate on keeping Birger out of sight and getting him back home.

  Once the coast was clear, Frankie sneaked down the hallway to the kitchen. On the way, he caught Saint Lou sneaking in the front door. Frankie was pretty sure Lou had basketball training on Fridays, but Lou wasn’t wearing her sports gear. So where had she been? And why did she look so guilty?

  Their conversation went like this:

  ‘What have you been doing?’ Frankie asked suspiciously.

  ‘Nothing. Why?’ Lou replied, more than a little defensively. ‘And why are you talking to me? You never talk to me.’

  ‘Well, I thought I’d start now,’ said Frankie smoothly. The more rattled his sister looked, the more his curiosity was piqued. He heard another thump from the rumpus room and spoke a bit louder to try to cover the sound. ‘Tell me, saint sissy sis, what are you dressing up as for the Halloween Parade tomorrow?’

  ‘Don’t call me that,’ said Lou, trying to edge away from Frankie and towards her room. ‘And anyway, I’m not entering this year.’

  ‘Not entering?’ Frankie couldn’t believe his ears. Right then he wouldn’t have believed them even if they’d just won the Nobel Prize for Most Trustworthy Ears in the World. Lou always entered and, if he were being completely honest, her costumes were even better than Lisa Chadwick’s (not that this would make any difference while Mrs Chadwick was the lead judge). ‘Why not?’

  Lou went red and she coughed. ‘I … I’ve got a lot going on right now.’

  Frankie looked at his sister through narrowed eyes. Unbelievable as it was, he strongly suspected she had a boyfriend. But before he could cross-examine her on this topic, Lou squeezed past him and rushed off down the hall.

  ‘Well-I’m-pooped-going-to-bed-nighty-night!’ she said, and slammed the door.

  It was possibly the longest conversation Frankie had had with his sister in months – and definitely the strangest. He smirked to himself, pretty sure that his boyfriend theory was right. He immediately looked forward to teasing his sister about it for many days/weeks/months/ years to come.

  Now that he was finally alone again, Frankie completed his raid on the kitchen, heading back to the rumpus room armed with chips, cookies, milk, juice and ice-cream (maybe this was a version of Valhalla, after all).

  ‘What were all those thumping noises?’ he asked Drew.

  ‘Birger was showing me some more dance steps,’ Drew replied from where he was now sprawled out on the couch.

  ‘Well, we’ll have to do something quieter with him for the rest of the night,’ Frankie replied. ‘My parents and Saint Lou are upstairs now and we can’t risk them hearing him.’

  ‘Can we show him TV?’ Drew begged, grabbing a fistful of chocolate-chip cookies and tossing them into his excited gob. ‘Please, please, pretty please!’

  Frankie thought about it. They had worked really hard to keep the details of the modern world from Ping during their last adventure, when they had had to bring her all the way from Imperial China to the present day so she could have life-saving surgery. But Birger had already seen so much of the modern world that Frankie didn’t think it would matter if he saw a little more. ‘OK,’ he said, picking up the remote.

  CLICK.

  And with that, Frankie and Drew lost Birger for the next few hours. He was experiencing his own time-travelling machine and was absolutely enthralled by it.

  Frankie felt both nervous and thrilled by Birger’s reaction. It was obvious he was seeing things he’d never even dreamt of before, including an ad that showed several people dressed as Vikings, who were all wearing horned hats. Birger roared with laughter when he saw that, and the boys didn’t need the padlock translator to tell them Birger was saying real Viking helmets didn’t have horns.

  ‘So, when do we send him back?’ said Drew when the laughter had died down.

  ‘Tomorrow, if we can get him out of the house without my parents seeing him first. And if Grandad will let us use the Sonic Suitcase,’ Frankie said. ‘Because Qantas doesn’t fly to the Viking era.’

  ‘Oh, thanks a lot, Captain Obvious. Is the Earth round too?’ retorted Drew. ‘So, what are we going to do about the Halloween Parade? We’ve only got one helmet so far.’

  With a yawn, Frankie took a handful of chips and flopped down into a beanbag. ‘We can figure out the rest of our
costumes once we’ve got Birger home,’ he said. And once I’ve worked out what do to about his dad that won’t destroy the timeline or muck up history, he thought to himself. No biggie …

  Frankie spent the rest of the night thinking it through. But before he could figure it out, he was asleep.

  When Frankie Fish woke up late on Saturday morning, he went from bleary-eyed to wide-eyed within seconds.

  That’s what happens when you suddenly remember you have a Viking sleeping in your rumpus room on HALLOWEEN without your parents (or sister) knowing.

  Frankie leapt up and bounded upstairs so he could get things ready in the Fish kitchen well before his parents arrived at the breakfast table.

  When they finally staggered in, Frankie beamed at them like the cover child from Perfect Child Weekly. ‘Morning, Mum. Morning, Dad!’ ‘Morning, son,’ they both groaned, sounding like teenagers that had been woken two hundred years too early.

  ‘I’ve made you some toast and juice,’ Frankie announced, hoping this would speed up his parents’ exit from the house (Tina and Ron worked every day of the week, including Saturdays). He had even put the toast in a little paper bag and the juice in two of Saint Lou’s many eco-friendly reusable cups.

  ‘Oh, what a golden child,’ glowed Tina Fish, accepting her bag of toast.

  Ron Fish was equally impressed, and smiled at his son proudly. ‘You’ve certainly pulled up your socks since that banner proposal prank, Frankie-boy. Looks like spending more time with your grandparents has got you back on the straight and narrow.’

  Tina Fish – also known as Tuna Fish – checked her watch, then smiled at Frankie’s dad. ‘Are we really in such a rush this morning, love? With this kind of service maybe we should eat in today.’

  ‘I was thinking the same thing,’ enthused Ron. ‘A table for two, please!’ he joked, clicking his fingers at Frankie.

  ‘Oh no, we are strictly takeaway only,’ Frankie half-joked back. He was starting to feel nervous.

  ‘Do you do coffee too?’ enquired Tina Fish.

  ‘Um, well …’

  Frankie was just about to improvise a pathetic answer when Saint Lou blew in like a storm in desperate need of making a splash.

  ‘Mum and Dad, you should leave right now! Traffic is crazy. I just saw on the news that there’s some enormous nutter with a red beard shouting gibberish on a rampage around the city.’

  Frankie felt a frog do a triple-twist dive into his throat in pike position.

  GULP.

  ‘How was he dressed?’ he asked nervously.

  ‘Kind of like a Viking,’ said Lou, ‘but without the horned hat.’

  Frankie scowled. ‘Vikings didn’t have –’

  But Lou had already turned back to her parents. ‘Seriously, guys. You should take that toast for the road.’

  ‘The world is getting crazier, no doubt about it,’ replied Ron Fish, forgoing his relaxed breakfast with a sigh. ‘Let’s get going, Tina love.’ Frankie’s head was spinning faster than the winning contestant in a Make Yourself Dizzy contest.

  The rampaging Viking can’t be Birger, he thought as his Mum kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for the ‘very thoughtful breakfast’. So who was it then? He had an awful feeling he knew the answer.

  The moment they were gone, Frankie dashed back to the rumpus room. Drew and Birger were doing Just Dance on the Xbox. Birger looked like he had never had so much fun in his entire life.

  ‘Put the news on!’ Frankie demanded.

  ‘But news is boring,’ moaned Drew.

  ‘Just do it!’ shouted Frankie, like he was providing the voice-over for the last Nike commercial on earth.

  Drew, finally realising something serious was up, quickly grappled with the remote and switched it to the news.

  A man with perfect hair and perfect teeth was speaking.

  ‘The city is at a standstill this morning as Halloween fever hits early. One keen Halloweener has gone to great lengths to dress up as a Viking and I have to say he looks extremely authentic, except that he’s missing the horned hat –’

  ‘Vikings didn’t wear horned hats, you idiot!’ Drew snapped at the screen. But Frankie was too amazed by the footage of the Viking to say a word. He stared at the TV with eyes larger than a Shrove Tuesday pancake.

  There on the screen was Brynjar, running down the main street of town, yelling out what sounded like extremely rude words in Ancient Norse.

  Frankie felt his whole body go cold. How on earth did he –

  But it didn’t matter how Brynjar had got there. How on earth were they going to get him back where he belonged?

  Mr Perfect reappeared on the screen.

  ‘We have our reporter down in the City Square and I believe she is about to attempt to talk with this so-called Viking man … Over to you, Gertrude Cross, live in the city.’

  The reporter appeared.

  ‘Yes Ross, Halloween certainly started with a “roar” today. Firstly I must correct you because, despite the impressive beard, the troublemaker appears in fact to be a teenager and not an adult and I have to say he seems to have gone to extraordinary lengths to create his costume. He even smells how I imagine Vikings may smell, like a fart trapped in a rotting fish. He’s just over there and so I’m going to try to speak to him. Perhaps we can discover why his helmet is missing horns!’

  ‘BECAUSE VIKINGS …’ Drew started to yell, then slumped back into his seat, looking defeated. ‘Ah, forget it,’ he muttered.

  Gertrude approached a confused-looking Brynjar, who was surrounded by excited tourists taking selfies with him.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Gertrude said with a smile so toothy it would make a piranha jealous. ‘I must congratulate you on your incredible costume.

  Where did you get it from?’

  Brynjar looked down the barrel of the camera and simply said, ‘Birger.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve heard of Birger!

  It’s one of those fancy new European department stores, isn’t it? Very swish. So, where have you come from today?’

  ‘BIRGER.’

  ‘OK, so you’ve come straight from the store. I too like to show off my clothes as soon as I buy them. And how will you be spending your Halloween tonight?’

  Brynjar was clearly becoming more and more frustrated. His chest heaved as he screamed loudly into Gertrude’s microphone, spittle flying from his mouth.

  ‘BIRRRRGERRRRRR!’

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him in alarm, then moved aside as Brynjar took off through the crowd.

  ‘Back to you in the studio, Ross,’ reported a slightly shocked and spittle-covered Gertrude Cross.

  Meanwhile, back in the Fish household, that frog in Frankie’s throat had swelled to the size of a crocodile.

  The one thing you can count on with old people is that they will always be home. And sure enough, when Frankie, Drew and a Viking named Birger turned up that Saturday morning – the day of the Halloween Parade – Alfie and Mavis Fish were already onto their fourth cup of tea for the morning.

  ‘Grandad, we have a problem,’ Frankie said, cutting to the chase, as soon as he emerged from a Nanna Fish cuddle.

  ‘We?’ retorted Grandad. ‘I think ye mean ye. I have no problem.’

  Frankie sighed. ‘OK then, I have a problem. But if you don’t help me it’ll be everybody’s problem very soon.’

  ‘Don’t torture the boy, Alfred,’ tutted Nanna Fish. ‘Listen to what he has to say.’

  Luckily for Frankie, Nanna Fish was the one person Grandad actually paid attention to.

  ‘OK, kiddo,’ he said. ‘What do ye need from me?’

  ‘I need the Sonic Suitcase back.’

  ‘Oh, what a surprise, I had no idea it was going to involve that at all,’ Grandad replied, sarcasm draped over every word. ‘And tell me. Who is your silent bearded friend here? I’m guessing he’s not an exchange student, is he?’

  All eyes landed on Birger, who was quietly taking up most of the couch in o
ne of Frankie’s dad’s polo shirts (which Frankie had nicked from the ironing basket to help him blend in).

  ‘It wouldn’t have been a complete lie,’ Drew interjected. ‘He is from Norway.’

  ‘Go on,’ Grandad said, his eyes narrowing.

  ‘Just from about nine hundred years ago …’

  Grandad’s nostrils flared a little, like those of a bull that has just spotted something fluttering and red.

  ‘Birger is a Viking,’ Frankie stammered. ‘And we accidentally brought him back with us.’

  Grandad buried his head in his hands, then rubbed his face like he was trying to get paint off it. ‘How many times have we been through this? We are time travellers, not time meddlers. When ye meddle with time, ye mess with time. YE TAUGHT ME THAT, FRANCIS.’

  Frankie gulped.

  ‘Would your Viking friend like a cup of tea?’ asked Nanna Fish politely. But no-one was listening.

  ‘I can explain,’ said Frankie, desperately. ‘We went back in time to Norway to borrow some Viking clothes –’

  Grandad thumped the coffee table, making the tea cups jump. ‘Why on earth did ye want to borrow Viking clothes?’ he roared. His face was purple.

  ‘I gave you a lovely hand-knitted jumper for Christmas, dear,’ Nanna reminded him, handing a cup of tea to Birger. ‘And I can always knit you another, any time of year!

  No need to go borrowing Viking clothes.’

  ‘We wanted to win the Best Costume prize at Lisa Chadwick’s Halloween Parade,’ Frankie muttered. ‘And we just got excited.’

  ‘A little too excited, obviously,’ Drew explained forlornly, and then added, ‘it’s my first Halloween Parade at St Monica’s.’

  Grandad was ready to reload and yell again, but then he looked at Drew, who now had his head bowed, and then at Frankie.

  ‘Did ye not use the Circle of Safety?’ Grandad groaned. ‘It was supposed to prevent mistakes like this.’

  ‘We did use it!’ protested Frankie. ‘But we, er, lost the belt. And something went wrong with it anyway …’