The Astounding Broccoli Boy

by Frank Cottrell Boyce

The engine was already running – so no problem about starting it. The handbrake had ‘handbrake’ written on it. The dials were all clearly marked. How hard could it be to drive? I touched the accelerator pedal. The engine raced and so did my 200-per-cent brain. It filled up with confidence and information like a tank filling up with petrol – I could see in my mind how my dad changed gear, how he checked the mirror; all I had to do was act like him. ‘Tommy-Lee,’ I said, ‘let’s do this.’

  There was a man in a yellow jacket and black beanie jumping up and down in the glare of my headlights. I banged on the horn. It sounded like an army of war elephants. It was so loud it blew him aside like a feather. I slipped the handbrake. Hauled on the wheel. We were off. Wheelie bins scattered around us like skittles. I could barely feel the crunch as I drove over them. A fence came down. Some chunks came off a wall, but I was beginning to get the hang of it.

  Tommy-Lee whooped with joy! He tried to high-five me, which did lead to a driving-straight-through-a-security-fence situation, but no one got hurt.

  On the road it was easy. Turns out I was right about indicating. If you’re the size of a spaceship and loaded with rubbish, you can go as slow as you like on whatever side of the road you want. No one seems to mind. I think people make allowances. It’s obvious that something that big isn’t really going to go around a traffic island. It has to go over it. Also, if you’re that big, people can see you coming so there’s no need to stop at traffic lights and stuff. We did crash through a set of Christmas lights that was hanging over the road, but it wasn’t our fault that someone hung them so low.

  ‘Tommy-Lee, where d’you want to go?’

  ‘Wherever there is trouble!’

  There seemed to be quite a lot of trouble around already. All the cars were flashing their headlights and beeping their horns. I managed to swing around a corner on to a main road. I was quite pleased about that. But Tommy-Lee was going, ‘Stop! I think you should stop now! Really you should stop!’

  ‘I’m just getting the hang of this. Why would I stop?’

  ‘Because everyone else has!’

  I’d probably been concentrating too hard on the dashboard and stuff and not hard enough on the road. So I hadn’t seen the flashing blue light ahead of us and the line of stopped cars until it was too late.

  ‘CRASH!!!’ Tommy-Lee actually shouted that. He went, ‘CRASH!!!’ as if the sound of three or four cars turning over and bashing into each other as I sledged into them wasn’t loud enough.

  Anyway, it wasn’t really a crash. Not like in a proper car chase where the car explodes in a fireball, BANG, and blows out all the windows of the nearest tower block, BOOM. It was just a few cars that got slightly crunched while I was mastering the brakes.

  There were people banging on the doors, yelling at us to get out. We couldn’t see them but they sounded angry.

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  Tommy-Lee said he wasn’t scared of them. ‘They shouldn’t’ve got in your way. Let me out. I’ll talk to them.’

  I knew you opened the doors by pressing a switch, but I didn’t know which one. The first I tried turned the cabin lights on and then off again. The next one made a rumbling noise start up somewhere behind us. The third one made the door on my side open, slowly, spookily, with that hissing sound. Even when it was only slightly open, we could hear the angry motorists yelling and telling us to get out. Until one of them shouted, ‘Oh. MY. DAYS!!!! Look!’ and pointed towards the back of the truck. Then they all ran back to their cars.

  We climbed down, trying to see why they were so upset. Two big, shining pistons were hoisting the whole back part of the truck upward and tipping it, getting ready to dump all the rubbish inside on to the road. Well, not so much on the road as on the cars that were parked behind us.

  No one was interested in us. Everyone was busy trying to get their cars out of the way.

  ‘Police!’ yelled Tommy-Lee. ‘Look!’

  Ahead of us, flashing blue lights, shouts, a siren going.

  ‘What are we going to do?!’ I was thinking of making a run for it.

  ‘Go and talk to them,’ said Tommy-Lee.

  ‘What?’

  ‘They’re just the people we’ve been looking for, aren’t they? We’re crime fighters. They’re crime fighters. We should talk.’

  I wasn’t convinced that the police would see the people who crashed a bin lorry into their roadblock as their best friends, but there was no stopping Tommy-Lee. No one even looked at us as we dodged in and out of the trapped cars. They were all too busy shouting at each other, or looking at their twisted bumpers and steaming radiators. There was a line of police cars and beyond that a strip of yellow tape stretched across the road and signs saying ‘Serious Incident – Police Only’.

  There were no police there. They were all sorting out the fighting and mess around the bin lorry. The streets were empty. Strangely empty. Nothing there but puddles and streetlight.

  ‘Tommy-Lee,’ I said, ‘what if the serious incident is really . . . serious?’

  ‘’S OK. We are invincible.’

  I didn’t say so, but all of a sudden I didn’t feel invincible. In fact I felt definitely one-hundred-per-cent vincible.

  The Streets Are Quiet, Too Quiet. But the Astounding Green Boys Are Brave. Too Brave?

  It was as though the whole street had been double-glazed. Everything was quiet and still. Nothing was moving. There was another yellow tape across the next corner. Tommy-Lee walked through it like a runner crossing the finishing line.

  We were in the square with the stone dragon, the square that had been full of Chinese people and hustle and bustle and stalls full of fruit. Only the stone dragon was still there.

  There were no people.

  No sound.

  Emptiness and silence are actually more frightening than gorillas and hippos. Especially if they go on a long way. Across the square was a narrow alley that led up to the road where the girls in tottery shoes had been queuing to get into The Bank. There were no girls now. The Bank was still there. Its bright neon sign still flashed on and off like a lighthouse beam across an empty sea. No cars. We walked past a massive toy shop. Its windows were full of amazing Christmas stuff – massive pedal cars shaped like old-fashioned Rolls-Royces, a row of dolls with angel’s wings and tinsel haloes, a doll’s house that was all lit up from the inside, guns and fighter planes . . . Our reflections walked through them like ghosts that couldn’t play.

  Something flickered on the window. There was a helicopter, with a searchlight, hovering over the buildings a few streets away. I must have been hearing the engine for ages without noticing it. The searchlight poked and prodded at the rooftops. The helicopter swung closer, balanced on its pyramid of light. It stayed still right over the middle of the road.

  Into the spotlight, as though it was a dancer about to start a ballet, trotted a hippopotamus.

  It stood still, very still, very big, very confused. It stepped forward. It backed up. Its head went from side to side. It really did look as if it was dancing. It was probably baffled and blinded by the light.

  ‘What’s that?!’

  ‘A hippo. I think it’s the one that attacked us the other night while you were asleep.’

  ‘Maybe that’s our nemesis!’

  ‘I think it’s just a hippo.’

  ‘Actually it’s got a nice face. It looks like it’s smiling. It likes us.’

  He was going to go and pet it. I stopped him. I explained that hippos kill more people every year than lions do. ‘They look friendly but they’re dangerous and bad-tempered.’

  ‘They’re probably misunderstood,’ said Tommy-Lee. ‘Just because they’re big, people probably pick on them and ask them to have fights they don’t even want. What’s it doing now?’

  The hippo’s head touched the floor. Its two front legs collapsed beneath it.

  ‘I don’t know. Is it taking a bow?’

  It rolled over on its side, one leg in the air. A man with
a rifle ran into the pool of light. We both realized what had happened – the hippo had been shot. This man had shot it. Now a truck backed into the light and other men piled off the back of it. They were all in uniform.

  ‘They’ve killed it!’ gasped Tommy-Lee. ‘Let’s get them!’

  ‘I think they’re the police.’ The truth popped into my brain like an urgent message . . . When Tommy-Lee freed the leopards, the gorillas, the hippos and the antelope – they must have found their way into this part of town. That’s why there was no one here. It had been evacuated. The police truck had a little winch on the back. Men were fastening straps around the hippo and hoisting it on board.

  ‘I don’t think it’s dead. I think they tranquillized it.’

  ‘Even so . . .’ said Tommy-Lee. He was itching to kick someone.

  Suddenly the men stopped what they were doing. Radios crackled. There was shouting. The helicopter swept off over the town.

  Some of the men carried on winching the hippo, but most of them ran off. A police van squealed into the square and three or four of the men jumped into it. The man with the rifle jumped in too.

  ‘What could be more interesting than fighting a hippo?’

  ‘Fighting something bigger and scarier than a hippo?’ A thought occurred to me. ‘Tommy-Lee, you didn’t let a grizzly bear out, did you? Or a herd of elephants?’

  ‘I don’t remember. I opened a lot of doors. I was upset.’

  We didn’t discuss it. We just went straight after the police car. We could see its siren splashing blue light down the street.

  It didn’t go far. There was a whole pile-up of police vans and cars across the road a few blocks away. Beyond that we could see a crowd of people – all shouting and milling around. These must be the people that the police had evacuated from the dragon square and the road where The Bank was. We went nearer. I tried to keep us in the shadows.

  No one was looking at us. A line of policemen was trying to get through a crowd of people. The people scrummed together, shouting and pointing. Except for some who were standing further off, looking worried, talking, pointing. There was something in the scrum. The police were trying to make the people move back so that they could get at whatever it was. Maybe it was the leopard. Maybe it was the gorilla.

  We had to intervene. Especially as it was all our fault. I was about to explain this to Tommy-Lee when he took off.

  He ran straight at the crowd roaring and howling, with his arms in the air.

  He came at them so fast people jumped out of his way. I followed him, running in the bubble of his force field, right through the crowd.

  A policeman tried to stop him but he was unstoppable.

  ‘Crash! . . . Pow! . . . Smash!’

  It was actually pretty exciting wondering what he was going to do when he came face to face with the gorilla – probably pick it up and give it a piggyback.

  But there was no gorilla.

  No leopard.

  No hippo.

  There was a scream.

  Not a scared scream.

  A furious-battle-cry-type scream.

  When we shoved our way to the centre of the circle of people we saw what looked like a girl with a paper bag over her head. Some of the police were holding the crowd back. Someone shouted, ‘Take the bag off, then you’ll see!’ Then everyone started shouting. Then one of the police pulled the bag off the screaming girl’s head.

  She screamed again.

  Her face was bright green.

  What to Do If You Are Caught in a Riot . . .

  Exit the area as quickly as possible. Move with confidence and an air of conviction. Look as if you know what you are doing, and no one will question you.

  Don’t Be Scared, Be Prepared

  The moment he saw her, Tommy-Lee had rushed in and grabbed hold of the girl. I ran in and stood next to him.

  ‘Three of them!’

  ‘Grab them!’

  The girl and Tommy-Lee were looking at the faces in the crowd, but my 200-per-cent brain had already noticed the policeman with the tranquillizer gun, standing on the van, possibly taking aim at us. It also noticed the tasers on the tool belts of the other police.

  I put my hand in the air like a traffic policeman.

  Everyone went quiet.

  Putting my hand in the air made it look like I knew what I was doing. Everyone stared at me as though I was about to explain everything. ‘Stay calm,’ I said, ‘and no one will get hurt.’

  People started to talk all at once and shuffle around. There were more of them than us. They hadn’t really thought about us hurting them until now.

  ‘We’re going now,’ I said. ‘If you’d all just step aside, please . . .’

  And everyone did! They all got out of our way.

  Except one big bloke who stood right in front of us.

  ‘Why should we get out of your way?’ he snarled.

  ‘To minimize,’ I said, ‘the risk of infection.’ He more or less jumped out of the way at that.

  The girl picked up her paper bag and put it back over her head. We strolled across the square. When we’d gone a few yards I realized that they were all following us – at a distance.

  ‘Don’t look now,’ I said, ‘but they’re all following us – at a distance.’

  ‘Shall we run?’

  ‘Not yet. When I say so . . .’

  As soon as we got to the edge of the square I said, ‘Now!’ and we bolted, Tommy-Lee kicking over wheelie bins and empty crates as we went, to make a kind of obstacle course.

  We could hear shouting as we dived into the underpass. Tommy-Lee and I both vaulted into the window cleaners’ cradle, dragging the girl in after us. I pulled the switch. We were ten metres in the air by the time we heard anyone stumble into the bins area. I stopped the cradle and we crouched down, just in case. We could hear confused and angry voices down below.

  ‘They were definitely here.’

  ‘They can’t have vanished into thin air.’

  ‘Well, they have.’

  They carried on rooting around among the bin bags for a while. They never looked up.

  ‘If I scream now,’ said the girl quietly, ‘you’ll be under arrest for kidnap.’

  ‘Are you going to scream?’

  ‘Probably not. After the day I’ve had, being kidnapped is a happy ending.’

  Introducing . . . the Incredible Koko Kwok

  Every good superhero team needs a mixture of talents. For instance, the Fantastic Four:

  • one genius scientist (Mr Fantastic aka Reed Richards)

  • one invisible person (Susan Storm aka Invisible Woman)

  • a strong one (the Thing aka Ben Grimm)

  • and a flying one (Johnny Storm aka the Human Torch).

  We had:

  • one super-strong kick-boxing door-opener (Tommy-Lee)

  • one who could slightly teleport and had a 200-per-cent brain (me)

  • and now one girl whose superability was . . .

  Well, we were about to find out.

  Her name was Koko Kwok.

  When she saw that we were green, she was really pleased. She’d thought she was the only green person on Earth – doomed to wander the streets forever with her head in a paper bag. ‘Thanks for rescuing me from a violent mob,’ she said. ‘Also from London, which is overrun with wild animals. There were wolves in the Natural History Museum gift shop.’

  I was worried that Tommy-Lee might admit that this was slightly our fault. But he was just too excited. ‘Wow!’ he gasped. ‘Did they do proper howling, like . . .’ He put his head right back and howled like a wolf. ‘Howhooooooowwwww. Howhooooowww!’

  Somewhere far away in the streets below something howled back. ‘Howhooooooowwwww. Howhooooowww!’ We all shuddered. There were goose pimples all the way up my arms. Tommy-Lee nearly dropped the blue plastic bin he was carrying.

  ‘Why are you carrying a blue plastic bin?’ I asked.

  ‘Just thought it would be nice to h
ave a bin. More homely.’

  We took Koko up to the Fish Tank.

  ‘Welcome,’ we whispered, ‘to our secret headquarters.’ We were using the phone we got during our bank raid as a light.

  ‘This,’ she said, ‘is a hospital ward. In fact, it’s an isolation unit.’ She was good at spotting detail.

  ‘Our headquarters is disguised as an isolation unit,’ said Tommy-Lee. We told her all about sneaking out at night and righting wrongs and fighting injustice. We asked her if she’d like to join. We thought she’d be pleased about that.

  But she’s not an easy person to please.

  ‘Why are you in an isolation unit?’ she said.

  ‘Because they think we’re contagious.’

  ‘So –’ she folded her arms like an angry maths teacher – ‘even though you’re contagious, you sneak out and contage people? So it’s all your fault when other people turn green? It’s your fault I look like a plate of spinach?’

  ‘Broccoli. The medical term is broccoli.’

  ‘First you contage me and then you kidnap me and now you’re trying to lock me up in an isolation unit?! I’m calling the police.’ Before we could stop her, she’d swiped Tommy-Lee’s stolen phone off the bedside table.

  ‘No! Wait! We’re not contagious. We’re not even sick.’

  ‘Of course you’re sick. You’re bright green.’

  ‘We’re not sick. We’re astounding.’

  ‘Ever since we turned green, we’ve been doing astounding things. Maybe you can do astounding things too.’

  ‘OK,’ said Koko, ‘astound me.’

  ‘We jumped off the roof and didn’t get hurt,’ said Tommy-Lee.

  ‘My brain has had some kind of upgrade. It’s sort of a 200-per-cent brain. Also I slightly teleported.’

  ‘That’s how come we rescued you from a bad crowd and howling wolves,’ I said. ‘We’re like the Fantastic Four. Except there’s only two of us. Three counting you.’

  ‘This is a game, right?’

  ‘No. We really, really have become astounding. Honestly.’

  Before she could reply the room was filled with a thrashing, scrabbling sound – like someone trying to stab their way out from inside a drum.