Frankie Fish and the Great Wall of Chaos

by Peter Helliar

  ‘Ni hao, dear. That’s “hello” in Chinese!’ Frankie’s heart stopped as Nanna Fish popped her head into the frame. ‘Don’t be mad at Grandad,’ she said. ‘This was all my idea. I thought it might be nice to have a holiday together.’

  ‘NO!’ Frankie groaned. Drew’s eyes were as round as dinner plates.

  ‘But when I went to get our luggage out of the Forbidden Shed –’ as Nanna spoke, Frankie could hear Grandad groaning ‘– I found that funny little case he made. What’s it called, lovey? The ooza-majig?’

  ‘The Sonic Suitcase,’ came Grandad’s voice.

  ‘Well, I realised straight away it wasn’t a normal bag!’ Nanna exclaimed.

  Frankie slapped his forehead.

  ‘So we’re going on a little trip to China!’ said Nana excitedly. ‘I love Chinese history and I’ve been learning Mandarin, so we should fit right in. And I’m the only one in my bingo group who can use chopsticks. Oh, and Frankie, love – look what just arrived!’

  Nanna reached into her pale purple bun – she often stored things in her surprisingly thick hair – and produced a small roll of paper. She unrolled it and held it in front of the camera.

  Frankie winced in embarrassment while Drew laughed his head off.

  It was his bad-hair photograph from this morning.

  ‘You look SO handsome!’ cooed Nanna. ‘I printed it out so you can come with us to China.’

  ‘OK, Mavis,’ grumbled Grandad. ‘That’s enough. Now Frankie, as ye know, I’ve been very forgetful recently and I didn’t want to leave the blasted suitcase behind somewhere. So I took a precaution …’

  ‘Like not using it in the first place?’ growled Frankie.

  ‘If I don’t put a secret code into the Sonic Suitcase every forty-eight hours,’ Grandad went on, ‘it automatically travels back to the Charging Bench, which is all rather brilliant but could potentially leave us stranded. The code is … um …’ The old man looked off-screen before bellowing, ‘Mavis, what’s the code for the thingy?’

  ‘One-one-one-one,’ came Nanna’s reply.

  ‘Ah yes … Frankie, ye may want to write it down …’

  ‘I think I’ll be right,’ muttered Frankie. His mind was ticking over, trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. The Sonic Suitcase was here, which meant that Grandad mustn’t have entered the code in time. So now he and Nanna were TRAPPED somewhere in the past!

  Frankie glanced at the note he’d pinched from the twins, written in Grandad’s wobbly handwriting. Emperor’s Secret Prison. ‘But where exactly is THAT, Grandad?’ he said aloud in frustration. ‘And when?’

  ‘The co-ordinates will already be set,’ said Grandad on the little screen, almost as if he’d heard. ‘When the case starts to beep and flash, it’s time to go. It should take ye along the same time path we took …’

  As the tape had been playing, Drew’s expression had gradually changed from excitement to suspicion.

  ‘Um, Frankie, are you sure this is all for real?’ Drew said. ‘Your grandad seems even weirder than my grandad, and he takes hip-hop aerobic classes.’

  Frankie nodded slowly. ‘Unfortunately, yes.’

  On the screen, Grandad leaned forward. ‘So ah, yeah. Sorry if ye have to come and rescue us, Frankie. It won’t happen again, I promise.’

  ‘Ha!’ snorted Frankie. As if he’d believe a promise made by Grandad ever again!

  ‘Make sure you eat something, Frankie,’ chimed in Nanna. ‘I made you some pancakes, they’re in the fridge. Don’t go time travelling on an empty stom–’

  The tape went fuzzy. Frankie stared at the static for a moment.

  ‘So this is the suitcase, huh?’ called Drew.

  Frankie turned to see his mate poking around inside the battered ruby suitcase. ‘Hey, careful!’ he cried. ‘That’s the Sonic Suitcase. Also known as a time machine.’

  Drew Bird’s eyebrows shot up like he’d been told monster trucks were made from real monsters. ‘You mean,’ he gulped, eyes wide, ‘you really weren’t lying?’

  ‘Of course I wasn’t!’

  ‘Oh, can we please travel back in time and play an epic prank on the Hedgehog?’ Drew begged, choking with laughter.

  Frankie shook his head. ‘Time travel is dangerous, Drew. We can’t mess around.’ Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he should take Drew with him. ‘Maybe you’d better stay here …’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ yelled Drew. ‘I’m coming. Um … where are we going, exactly?’

  ‘China,’ Frankie said, grinning. Despite the risks, the trip would be way more fun with his best friend along for the ride. ‘I think, anyway.’

  ‘Well then, let’s go!’ Drew cheered.

  ‘Hang on,’ said Frankie. He’d just heard a noise outside. Voices. Voices that sounded angry and American. ‘Oh no,’ he groaned softly, rushing to close the door of the Forbidden Shed.

  But he wasn’t quite quick enough. As he grabbed the shed door’s handle and pulled it shut, he caught a glimpse of two angry-looking Texans marching towards him – one in yellow, the other in orange. Their hair was now severely wind-blown and their faces were shiny with sweat.

  ‘We want our stuff back. And we want answers!’ they screamed as Frankie slammed the door closed with a bang.

  With trembling hands, Frankie pushed a small hook on the inside of the door into an equally small loop attached to the wall.

  ‘Somehow I don’t think those two are going to give up any time soon,’ observed Drew as the Texan twins began pummelling the door with their fists. It was possibly the truest thing Drew had ever said.

  Suddenly, the Sonic Suitcase whirred into life. The lights lit up and the spinny bits spun. Numbers flashed and the beepy bits beeped. A message blinked up on the tiny screen.

  Co-ordinates set. Prepare for departure.

  ‘Drew,’ Frankie said urgently. ‘It’s time to go.’

  Drew’s face broke into a grin, which vanished just as quickly. ‘But …’

  ‘But what?’

  Drew looked worried. ‘We haven’t had your nanna’s pancakes yet.’

  Frankie rolled his eyes. ‘They’ll keep,’ he said, and leapt towards the Sonic Suitcase. He checked the controls: one hundred per cent charged. Perfect.

  The Texans were now raging like bulls at a red-flag shop. ‘Open up!’ they screamed. ‘We know you’re in there! We want the truth and we’re not leaving until we have it!’

  ‘Come ON!’ Frankie mouthed urgently to Drew.

  Drew grabbed his scooter, collapsed it and shoved it in his backpack. Carefully, Frankie slid the old bottle in beside it.

  The Sonic Suitcase’s beeps grew LOUDER and more urgent. Frankie grabbed the case and yanked it off the Charging Bench.

  ‘Hold onto the handle,’ Frankie instructed Drew, who was looking a little freaked out.

  ‘Erm … quick question,’ said Drew. ‘What does time travel feel like?’

  By this point, the only thing louder than the suitcase’s insistent beeping was the racket being made by the Texan twins outside the door.

  ‘You’re about to find out,’ Frankie yelled above the noise. ‘Happy travels!’

  And just like that, Frankie Fish and Drew Bird disappeared from the Forbidden Shed.

  Imagine being stretched.

  Not just the kind of stretch you do after a long car drive, when you’ve woken up with a crick in your neck.

  No, imagine being stretched over time and space. Stretched like your arms and legs are made of rubber and you’re at the mercy of a giant two-year-old who just wants to play with you. Who’s determined to contort you into every possible position – your legs wrapped around your head, your arms out as wide as they can possibly go, as if you were preparing to hug an elephant.

  And then imagine that you're spinning, too. Spinning like a ballerina dancing on a disco ball. Spinning like you’ve just been tossed into a washing machine with your sister’s smelly socks and your dad’s old jocks. Nothing makes sense but you someho
w understand everything. Your brain feels like jelly and your head seems to be full of custard. It’s amazing and kind of icky all at once.

  You travel through oceans where dolphins chatter in Spanish and lions swim backstroke. Sharks pull Muhammad Ali and Princess Diana along in chariots, as Che Guevara zooms past in a Formula One car.

  Suddenly you’re in the jet stream of an early nineteenth-century locomotive, shooting into outer space where Michael Jackson is moonwalking on the actual moon.

  That is what was happening to Frankie and Drew. The two boys were floating in outer space as the earth spun beneath them – spinning quicker and quicker until it was a blur of blue and green. Storm clouds enveloped them and the stars began to beep.

  Frankie, who knew what was about to happen, tried to warn his friend, but that’s hard to do when your vocal cords have twisted themselves into some kind of complicated yoga position.

  ‘Geeeet reeeady,

  Drrrrrrewwww!’

  Before Drew could high-five Michael Jordan (who’d just happened to float by), he and Frankie were thrown back towards the earth like a dog tossing around a chewed-up squeaky toy.

  ‘This is sooooo weeeeeird,’ squeaked Drew.

  Yes, this was weird.

  This was time travel.

  Dry grass, dust and campfire. Those were the smells that Frankie awoke to, flat on his tummy, while the Sonic Suitcase sat perfectly balanced on a nearby rock.

  I didn’t miss this bit at all, Frankie thought groggily. It felt like there was a game of ping-pong going on inside his head.

  He sat up and looked around. They were in some kind of a forest. Late-afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the trees and the air was filled with the pleasant twittering of birds. But then the tranquility was broken by the sound of another type of bird groaning loudly.

  ‘What just happened?’ croaked Drew Bird as he sat up among the bushes. ‘I feel like somebody tried to make a milkshake out of my brain.’

  Then Frankie saw his best friend’s face go very pale.

  ‘Where’s my backpack?’ Drew gasped. ‘Did Michael Jackson steal it?’

  Frankie glanced around to get his bearings, still in a bit of a daze. He managed to spot Drew’s backpack halfway up a nearby tree, the handles of his blue scooter poking out the top. ‘Look!’ he said.

  ‘Are you sure that’s mine?’ Drew asked, squinting up at it.

  ‘It’s either yours, or this is the world’s biggest coincidence.’

  ‘How am I going to get it down?’ groaned Drew. ‘This always happens to me.’

  Frankie raised his eyebrows. ‘Um, how often do you time-travel and get your backpack stuck in a tree?’

  ‘Considering this is your fault, Frankie Fish,’ Drew huffed, ‘it’s only fair if you climb the tree and get it down for me.’

  Frankie could have argued the point (after all, it was Drew’s backpack), but he couldn’t be bothered. ‘OK, OK,’ he sighed, jumping up.

  It didn’t take Frankie long to climb the tree. He soon reached the third branch, where a blue canvas backpack from the future was dangling.

  ‘Don’t just knock it down,’ Drew called anxiously. ‘It’s got my scooter in it!’

  But Frankie wasn’t really paying attention because – as he turned to take in the 360-degree view from the third branch – he very nearly fell out of the tree in amazement.

  ‘Oh wow!’ he breathed.

  ‘Frankie?’ came Drew’s voice from below. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Get up here now!’ Frankie yelled down to his land-dwelling best friend.

  ‘Why?’ Drew protested. ‘I sent you up there to get my backpack. My coming up there defeats the purpose entirely!’

  ‘You won’t believe what I’m looking at,’ Frankie grinned, as excited as if he’d stumbled upon Jurassic Park or Santa’s workshop.

  ‘This better be good,’ Drew said crankily as he struggled up the tree. (Climbing was not Drew’s thing.) By the time he’d joined Frankie on the third branch, he was in a filthy mood. ‘So why did I have to –’

  But he stopped short when he saw what Frankie was looking at.

  ‘Oh my holey underpants,’ murmured Drew Bird. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

  Frankie clapped his hand on Drew’s shoulder. ‘Yep. It’s the Great Wall of China.’

  It was an amazing sight. As the sun started to set over China, workers were making their way up and down the Great Wall. It was still under construction, but from his branch, Frankie could see it looked a bit like an elevated footpath, with ramparts on either side. Donkeys were pulling wagons full of bricks along it, and there were several rope-pulley systems heaving equipment up and down the massive structure.

  Frankie’s mind was well and truly blown by the sight of it. This was what time travel was all about. ‘It truly is great, isn’t it?’ he said to Drew, misty-eyed.

  Drew shrugged. ‘Well, it looks like they’re still building it. So technically at this point I’d say it’s more like a “pretty good” wall.’

  Just then, their branch gave an ominous creak and Drew’s backpack slipped. Frankie lunged and just managed to catch it before it fell to the ground.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie caught sight of something else. Or rather, he didn’t catch sight of it.

  The Sonic Suitcase was gone!

  In a panic, Frankie scanned the ground, searching for a glimpse of his and Drew’s only possible ride back home. Had it fallen off the rock where he’d left it? Was something covering it? Where was it?!

  And then Frankie spotted the case – swinging off the arm of a young, barefoot and rapidly disappearing Chinese boy, whose clothes were so frayed and dirty it looked like he had rolled here all the way from Beijing.

  ‘Hey! Give that back!’ shouted Frankie.

  The boy ran faster.

  ‘Oi! Stop, thief!’ yelled Drew Bird, catching on.

  But as the boy clearly had NO intention of doing what they asked, Frankie swung himself down from the tree.

  ‘Come on, Drew,’ he yelled. ‘Unless you fancy staying here forever, we’ve got to catch him!’

  Together, the boys chased the thief like their lives depended on it (which, as a matter of fact, they did).

  The thief may have been small, but he was faster than a sugar-addicted greyhound chasing the Easter Bunny. Yet Frankie was pretty fast too, and steadily made up ground. Drew was following on his scooter, but the rough terrain made for slow going.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ the boy yelled over his shoulder in a high-pitched voice, together with what sounded like some choice Mandarin swear words.

  It was a huge surprise to hear the little urchin speaking English, but Frankie had no time to dwell on that. ‘Fat chance!’ he yelled. ‘You stole our suitcase and we need it back.’

  Between trees the bandit fled, darting around bushes, leaping over logs and rocks like a ninja warrior, the Sonic Suitcase tucked under one arm.

  ‘There’s nothing valuable in there!’ Frankie yelled as he tried to catch his breath. Not to YOU, at least, he thought grimly.

  The mischievous boy showed no sign of slowing down. Frankie was puffing like crazy, but he knew he couldn’t give up. He needed that Sonic Suitcase. There was no other way home. There was no Plan B.

  So Frankie continued to run as fast as a gingerbread man being chased by every single animal that’s ever existed. He lost sight of the boy in the shadows of the trees but could still hear his feet pounding on the dusty, rocky ground.

  But then, quite suddenly, the footsteps stopped. Frankie stopped too. A moment later, an exhausted Drew came puffing up beside him.

  ‘Did he get away?’ Drew panted.

  Frankie held up his hand. ‘Can you hear that?’

  Drew listened. ‘Like, something splashing?’

  Frankie nodded. ‘Let’s go!’

  The two boys sprinted towards the sound and soon arrived at the edge of a great river. And there was the increasingly annoying boy stan
ding on the riverbank, holding the Sonic Suitcase out over the rapidly flowing water. Even in the low light of the early evening, Frankie could tell that the Chinese boy was mad.

  Frankie gulped. He had no idea if the Sonic Suitcase was waterproof or not, but he guessed not …

  ‘Why do you want this box so bad?’ the boy asked angrily, as if it were Frankie that had caused all the trouble.

  ‘Because it’s MINE,’ snapped Frankie.

  ‘I found it. It’s mine now!’ the boy shouted.

  ‘We need it to get home,’ pleaded Frankie.

  But this clearly didn’t bother the boy, so Frankie knew he’d have to try a different tack. Then he remembered the shortbreads from the Cocoa Pit in his pocket. ‘Hey, are you hungry?’

  Food bribes always worked – at least, with Drew they did.

  The boy nodded slowly. ‘Very hungry,’ he said, after a moment.

  ‘There’s no food in that, er, box – but if you give it back, I’ll give you something to eat in return,’ offered Frankie.

  The thief narrowed his eyes, and seemed to look at Frankie and Drew properly for the first time. ‘Your clothes look stupid,’ he said suspiciously, and then squinted at Frankie’s white, lightly freckled face and Drew’s smooth brown skin. ‘Where are you from?’

  Frankie gulped. He hadn’t expected to be in this much trouble so early in their adventure. He desperately tried to think of the Chinese cities he’d heard about, but he also knew that Chinese history was long and complex, so he wasn’t exactly sure if Beijing or Hong Kong were called Beijing and Hong Kong at this point in time. (In fact, he wasn’t even sure of which point in time they’d landed in!)

  ‘Um, I’m from down south,’ Frankie eventually replied. ‘Very far down south …’

  ‘What village?’ asked the boy, taking a finger off the handle of the Sonic Suitcase so that it dangled even more precariously over the rushing water.

  Frankie’s brain whirred. ‘My village is called Jackie … Chan … land,’ he babbled, hoping that the most famous Chinese movie star in history hadn’t time-travelled through these parts. Beside him, Drew managed to stifle a snort.