Jake Cake: The Football Beast

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Jake Cake: The Football Beast Page 3

by Michael Broad


  ‘We queued for hours to get on those rides,’ Mum said, tearing off a ride-token and handing it to the woman in the ghost-train booth. ‘And this one has no queues at all!’

  ‘I wonder why,’ I said, reluctantly taking a seat on the empty train.

  Mum never goes on rides because they make her feel sick, so she waved enthusiastically as the train crawled towards two rusty doors. The doors had Tunnel of Terror written above them in blood-red lettering.

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that!’ I mumbled, folding my arms defiantly.

  I’ve been on loads of ghost trains before and they’re never, ever scary.

  The doors slammed behind me and the train rattled along the track, taking a sharp right turn where a green plastic skeleton bounced up and down on a piece of elastic.

  ‘YAWN!’ I yawned.

  The train carried on through the darkness and at the next turn there was a coffin with a creaky lid. As the lid creaked open a plastic vampire rose slightly and then flopped back down again with a hollow clunk.

  ‘YAWN!’ I yawned again.

  The third turn revealed a flapping white sheet that was probably supposed to be a ghost, but it was about as scary as a white sheet hanging on a windy washing line.

  ‘BORING!’ I sighed, batting a rubber bat that dangled over my head.

  The train continued to chug along at about one kilometre an hour, pushing through stringy cobwebs and plastic spiders, while a scratchy recording of moans and groans echoed in the darkness.

  ‘They’re probably moaning and groaning out of boredom!’ I chuckled.

  My chuckle was cut short when the train suddenly stopped with a jolt that made me jump. Then a bright blue phantom appeared on the track in front of me! ‘I’m doing my best,’ he growled. ‘You don’t have to make fun of it!’

  I wasn’t sure whether to scream or say sorry because he wasn’t very scary and looked pretty upset. But the phantom vanished before I had a chance to do either and the next thing I knew the train had started up again.

  Judging by the poor quality of frights in the Tunnel of Terror I was certain the phantom was real. And I knew he was a phantom because he was a bit see-through like a ghost. Phantoms are very similar to ghosts – except they’re monster-shaped instead of people-shaped.

  It also made sense that a phantom would live in a ghost-train ride because all they’re good for is scaring people. Although this one wasn’t even good at that judging by the lack of queues!

  By the time I’d worked all this out the train had passed a shop dummy with bits of bandage draped over it that was supposed to be a mummy, a cackling witch with flashing light bulbs for eyes and a balding werewolf with a missing fang.

  The train was now chugging towards the exit and as it crashed through the doors into daylight I was pretty confused. How could a phantom living in a ghost train be so bad at scaring people?

  ‘You look like you’ve seen a spoooooky ghost!’ Mum gasped dramatically, as the train ground to a halt.

  ‘I saw a sheet,’ I said sarcastically.

  I decided not to tell Mum about the phantom because she’d just assume it was part of the ride, and if I insisted he was real she’d think I couldn’t tell the difference between a monster and a dummy.

  ‘I’ve just made an appointment to see the fortune-teller!’ Mum said excitedly, pointing to a nearby tent with stars and moons all over it. ‘But we need to hurry – the planets will be aligned for my reading in five minutes’ time.’

  ‘That’s convenient,’ I mumbled, because I don’t believe fortune-tellers can really tell the future. I think they just say nice things so that people go away feeling happy.

  The last time Mum went to see the funfair fortune-teller it went on for ages, but that was mostly because I kept laughing and doing impressions of Madam Mystic.

  Madam Mystic said Mum would have a lot of trouble with a certain boy who couldn’t take things seriously.

  I wonder who she was talking about?

  ‘Can’t I stay on the ghost train?’ I asked. It had to be better than Madam Mystic, and I was still very curious about the funfair phantom. ‘It’s actually quite good and we do have four ride-tokens left.’

  At the mention of four tokens the woman in the ghost-train booth hurried over.

  ‘I can keep an eye on him for you,’ she said enthusiastically.

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,’ Mum said, frowning at her watch.

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ said the woman. ‘The funfair are closing us down after today, so it would be nice to see the old girl rattle round a few more times before she goes into retirement.’

  ‘Closing down?’ Mum said. ‘But why?’ ‘We can’t compete with the bigger rides,’ the woman said sadly. ‘It would seem ghost trains are rather old-fashioned and not exciting enough for young people today.’

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Mum said.

  ‘So can I stay here?’ I pleaded.

  ‘Oh, all right,’ Mum sighed, handing the tickets to the woman. ‘Now, if he gives you any trouble at all, or starts making up stories about monsters, I’ll be just inside that tent.’

  Before leaving, Mum warned me to behave myself for the nice lady and not to make fun of the ghost train any more. Then she hurried off to the fortune-teller’s tent to have her future told.

  The woman started up the ride again and waved at me as the train chugged towards the doors. I felt bad for making fun of the ghost train, especially now I knew it was closing down. But as the doors slammed and the green skeleton bounced around in front of me again I could definitely see why.

  It just wasn’t scary!

  As the carriage crawled past the coffin and the sheet I looked out for the phantom, but when the train stopped this time, he didn’t appear. It was then that I heard a strange noise over the recording of moaning and groaning.

  It sounded like sobbing.

  The train carried on, moving away from the sound, so I leapt out of the carriage and walked back up the track. The tunnels were lined with sheets of black cloth and when I pulled one back I found the blue phantom in a secret room.

  The room obviously wasn’t part of the ride. In fact it looked like a pretty nice kid’s bedroom, with a bed and a desk and shelves of books; it even had a small TV in the corner. The phantom was sitting on the bed and when he saw me he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

  ‘Have you come to make fun of the scares again?’ he asked.

  ‘Er, no,’ I said, realizing for the first time that the phantom was about my age, which I think is pretty young in phantom years because some of them have been around for centuries. ‘Actually, I wanted to say sorry.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he sniffed, blowing his nose loudly on a tissue. ‘You were right anyway. The scares are boring, and now they’re closing the ride down because I can’t make anyone scream. And kids only go on the rides with the loudest screams.’

  ‘I could scream,’ I suggested. ‘If you think it would help.’

  ‘One scream can’t compete with the Dinosaur Dipper or the Rocket Launcher,’ said the phantom. ‘But thanks for offering, and for not laughing at me when I jumped in front of the train.’

  ‘Why would I laugh?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s what kids used to do before the big rides came,’ he said. ‘I tried to be scary, but they thought I was just someone in a silly blue suit. Some even threw their candyfloss and toffee apples at me, which wasn’t very nice.’

  Suddenly the black curtain flapped back.

  ‘What on earth!’ gasped the woman from the ghost-train booth, moving her head between the phantom and me and looking pretty terrified.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said, realizing the sight of a phantom might be a bit much for a grown-up. ‘He’s very friendly –’

  ‘I know he’s friendly!’ snapped the woman. ‘But what about you? As soon as the empty train came out I knew you’d be snooping around and causing trouble. Your mother warned me.’

  ‘Uh?’ I said, because
I couldn’t work out what was going on.

  ‘Oh dear!’ she gasped. ‘Now everyone will find out about my Bluey.’

  ‘It’s OK, Mum,’ said the phantom, hurrying over to comfort the woman.

  I couldn’t work out how a woman could have a phantom for a kid, but they both looked scared, which was probably a first for this ghost train. And the thing they were scared of was me telling Mum about the phantom.

  ‘I won’t tell,’ I smiled. ‘Mum wouldn’t believe me anyway – she never does.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said the woman, slowly calming down.

  ‘Oh, I see weird stuff all the time,’ I said casually.

  Bluey’s mum explained that she’d inherited the young phantom along with the ghost train, and decided to adopt him as she didn’t have any children of her own. Then I told them all about my unbelievable adventures to reassure them I was OK.

  ‘In fact this was probably the least scary thing that’s happened to me!’ I said.

  ‘Thanks a lot,’ sighed Bluey.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean…’ I said, realizing I’d probably offended him.

  ‘It’s OK.’ Bluey’s mum smiled and ruffled the phantom’s hair. ‘I guess some phantoms are just naturally scary, while others are not. And I wouldn’t want you any other way.’

  ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I think phantoms can be whatever they want to be.’

  ‘What?’ they both said together.

  I told them about the time I met a shape-shifting phantom in the local pet shop. He turned from a goldfish into a tiger to scare me away – but I’ll tell you about that another time.

  ‘I can’t shape-shift,’ said the phantom.

  ‘Have you ever tried?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t know how.’

  ‘Well, the one in the pet shop seemed to concentrate when he did it,’ I said, remembering how strange it was to see a concentrating goldfish. ‘You could always give it a go.’

  ‘What should I concentrate on?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve got an idea!’ I said, and quickly led Bluey and his mum to the section of the ghost train with the balding werewolf. ‘Now concentrate on him – but you might want to imagine you have two fangs instead of one.’

  The phantom furrowed his brow in concentration.

  At first nothing happened, then his body suddenly shifted shape and two wolf ears popped out of his head. This was quickly followed by a long wolf snout and two white fangs.

  Bluey was still small, but now he was brown and wolfy, and he looked pretty pleased with himself. His mum was pleased too because she was jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

  ‘Now if you want to look like a real werewolf, you need to be bigger,’ I said.

  Bluey immediately grew taller, his shoulders bulked out and his teeth doubled in size. Then he lifted his head back and howled at the top of his voice, which made the train tracks vibrate.

  The phantom’s mum and I took a big step back, until the werewolf grinned shyly to let us know he was the same friendly Bluey. Then we both laughed and cheered his success.

  The phantom made his way around the track, shape-shifting into scary versions of the witch and the ghost and the vampire and the skeleton, while his mum carried the old ones away. And when I explained to Bluey that monsters can look like anything, things got really scary as he started making his own frightening creations.

  There was one with dragon wings and massive claws!

  There was another with three heads and the body of a snake!

  And the scariest of all was a huge spider-bat that leapt from the ceiling!

  ‘There’s only one thing left to do,’ said the phantom’s mum, dusting her hands in a businesslike fashion. ‘And that’s to give the new Tunnel of Terror a test run! Are you ready, Bluey?’

  The phantom had changed back to normal and looked nervous. The tunnels were now empty apart from a few cobwebs and plastic spiders, so it was up to him to provide all the frights.

  He took a deep breath and nodded bravely.

  I was pretty nervous too as we took a seat in the train outside, but I was sure Bluey could do it. As the train rattled towards the rusty old doors, the phantom’s mum and I exchanged anxious looks and then gripped the safety bar.

  When the doors slammed behind us Bluey went to work.

  The huge horned skeleton clattered over the top of the train, quickly followed by the three-headed snake.

  The vampire swooped from the shadows and as his cape flapped he turned into the roaring dragon, shooting flames from his nostrils!

  ‘ARRRRRRRGH!’ we screamed.

  There was a moment of blackness when we saw a headless ghost running towards us, but then it turned into the witch and shrieked over our heads. As we looked back the spider-bat suddenly flew towards us, causing us to duck down in our seats!

  ‘ARRRRRRRGH!’ we screamed again.

  As the train rattled towards the last stretch we both looked round to see the mummy grinning in the seat between us, then he leapt on to the track and landed as the huge werewolf, snarling and drooling and howling at the top of its voice.

  ‘ARRRRRRRGH!’ we screamed, and this scream lasted until the doors slammed behind us and we were back in the daylight.

  ‘That was the best ride EVER!’ I said to Bluey’s mum.

  At first I thought Bluey’s mum had gone into shock because she was staring at me with wide eyes and her mouth was hanging open. Then I saw that she was looking past me at the people queuing at the ticket booth.

  There was a line of parents and kids trailing back as far as I could see, all itching to go on the ride we’d just taken. The roaring dragon and shrieking witch and howling werewolf, combined with our deafening screams, had brought people from all the way across the funfair!

  Looking back at the exit doors we saw a tiny blue thumbs-up through the gap. We gave Bluey an excited thumbs-up back, and then his mum hurried off to the ticket booth.

  I was about to climb out of the train when I saw my mum charge from the fortune-teller’s tent. She glanced around in a panic at the commotion outside, then she saw me sitting on the train amid the chaos and rolled her eyes.

  ‘What have you been up to now?’ Mum demanded, and marched over to the ticket-booth. She was about to offer the usual apologies for my bad behaviour, but the phantom’s mum spoke first.

  ‘There you are!’ she said cheerfully. ‘However can I thank you?’

  ‘Thank me?’ Mum said, as I climbed down from the train and joined them.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, patting my shoulder. ‘Your son told me how to make my ghost train scary again, and now people are queuing to take a ride. There’s no way they’ll make us close down now!’

  ‘Really?’ Mum said, obviously in shock.

  ‘What a wonderful imagination he has,’ the phantom’s mum added, and gave me a wink.

  ‘Yes,’ Mum said. ‘I suppose he has.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I really must serve these customers,’ Bluey’s mum apologized, hurrying back behind the booth. ‘But please come back soon – you’ll have as many free passes as you can use.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Mum said, and led me away as the ride started up again.

  Bluey must have been enjoying himself because we could hear the roaring and howling and satisfied shrieks all the way out to the car park. It was only then that Mum found her voice again.

  ‘Oh, I forgot to mention,’ Mum gasped excitedly. ‘Madam Mystic said the crystal ball clearly showed a lady with a young son having a dramatic change in fortune!’

  ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I wonder who she meant?’

  ‘Well, I think it must have been me and you!’ Mum added. ‘Madam Mystic couldn’t say for sure, of course. But she did say the colour blue would be very lucky indeed.’

  And I smiled to myself as the ghost train screamed in the distance.

   

 

 


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