The Brain Sucker

by Glenn Wood

  “I’m Sergeant Oliver Bright of the Inner City Police Division. Please tell me exactly what you saw.”

  Callum wasted no time relating the evening’s events, with Sophie adding any details he omitted. When he finished speaking, the policeman stared at him for a few seconds and then said, “Hmmm.” Callum had the distinct impression he didn’t believe a word they were telling him.

  The policeman motioned for Callum and Sophie to go back into Rose’s room. “I suppose I’d better speak to the alleged victim then.” That word again.

  As the policeman strode over to Rose, Callum offered a warning. “My grandmother’s very tired and might be a bit, um, difficult.”

  Sergeant Bright snorted, causing his moustache to wobble. “Son, I deal with hardened criminals every day. I think I can handle an elderly lady.”

  He shook the blankets where Rose’s shoulder was hidden. “Excuse me, madam,” he said loudly. “It’s the police. I’d like a quick word.”

  A muffled voice came from under the blankets. “I don’t care if it’s the king of the world. I’m sleeping; go away.”

  Sergeant Bright carried on undeterred. “You are speaking to me, so clearly you are not sleeping. Please remove the blanket from your head and answer my questions.”

  Rose tossed the blankets off and sat upright, her eyes blazing with indignation. She stared long and hard at the policeman. “Actually, I have some questions to ask you. Why is a delicate, law-abiding senior citizen such as me being harassed by a constant flow of dim-witted people? And why do you have such a ridiculously unfashionable moustache? It makes you look like a walrus in a uniform.”

  Callum winced and looked at Sophie, whose mouth hung open in shock.

  “Madam, please,” spluttered the policeman. “There’s no need for such unpleasant and personal ab–”

  Rose cut him off. “Oh for heaven’s sake, get on with your questions before you start blubbering.”

  Sergeant Bright was clearly shaken. He was not used to being spoken to in such a manner. “According to witnesses …” He took time to compose himself by referring to his notebook and glancing at Callum and Sophie. They shuffled nervously. “… you were the victim of a serious assault tonight. Can you please tell me about this incident?”

  Rose sighed. “I’ll tell you this once, and I’ll speak slowly so my words won’t be too much for your miniscule brain. As far as I can remember, there was no ‘incident’. Obviously, the children have had some sort of nightmare and you people have completely overreacted. I’d have thought you’d have better things to do than poke your sizable nose and big, flat feet into other people’s business.”

  A wounded look passed over Sergeant Bright’s face. Callum felt sorry for him.

  The policeman drew himself up to full height. “I’ll have you know, madam, that I have surprisingly dainty feet for a man of my size.” He then tucked his notebook back into a pocket in his uniform and left the room. As he went, Rose flipped over, muttering under her breath. Callum thought she said “Go boil your head” but couldn’t be sure.

  Half an hour after the police and ambulance crew left, Callum wheeled quietly over to Sophie’s room. He gave a soft rap on the door. Sophie opened it and let him in. She sat on the bed. “Well, that sucked.”

  Callum agreed. “The police didn’t believe a word we said.”

  “Mitchell and Bradley blathering on about space monsters isn’t exactly helping our case,” said Sophie with a sigh. “And your gran can’t remember a thing.” She pouted. “Besides, what do we know? We’re just kids.”

  “We know what we saw,” Callum said, determination in his eyes. “I don’t care what the police say – those thugs sucked something out of Gran and we’re going to get it back.”

  Sophie flopped onto her stomach and cupped her head in her hands. “What do you think they took?”

  Callum scratched his jaw. He looked tired. “I don’t know. She’s acting very strange though. She was incredibly rude to the paramedic and the policeman. I’ve never seen her like that, and she didn’t even ask us for our side of the story, which is not like her either.”

  “Have you talked to your aunt about it?”

  Callum nodded. “I tried, but she completely dismissed me. She said that Rose was just getting grumpy in her old age then told me to go to bed.” He sighed. “We’ve got to find those burglars. Any luck with the tracker?”

  Sophie pulled an iPhone from under her pillow. She entered the map application and the word “Scan” popped up. Sophie had made a few adjustments to the phone, completely voiding the manufacturer’s guarantee. She touched the screen and waited as a series of street maps near their current location scrolled up. After a minute the words “Nil result” flashed. Sophie shook her head. “They must be out of range.”

  “We’ll try again tomorrow. I’d better go. If we’re caught talking, Rebecca will have a major meltdown.” Callum rolled to the door.

  Sophie held his gaze. “It’ll be all right, Cal. We’ll fix this.”

  “I really hope so, Soph. Rose is all the family I have, or at least the only family I actually like.”

  He left the room before his best friend could see how upset he really was.

  No one got up early the following morning. When Ken and Rebecca did rise, they were really grumpy. Rebecca clattered about in the kitchen, making a rather poor breakfast for her guests, and Ken went straight into his home office without saying a word then shut the door.

  Mitchell and Bradley were a different story. They were subdued, regarding Callum and Sophie with a mixture of fear and awe. Mitchell approached Callum in the bathroom as he washed his hands before breakfast. He peeped around the door keeping his distance. His brother stood behind him in the hallway. Mitchell spoke quietly. “You guys saw the monsters last night, didn’t you?”

  Callum nodded. “They weren’t monsters; they were men in gasmasks.”

  “What did they want?”

  “We don’t know yet, but we’re going to find out.”

  Bradley popped out from behind his brother. “We got ’em you know.”

  Callum raised an eyebrow and waited for Bradley to continue.

  “We sprayed ’em with grease and smashed ’em with itching powder.”

  Callum laughed. “I suppose that had been meant for us.”

  “No,” lied Mitchell.

  “Yes,” said Bradley.

  “Yes,” Mitchell finally admitted. “But we’re not out to get you any more, not if you chased the monsters out of our house.”

  “Truce then?” Callum extended his hand.

  Mitchell spat into his palm. “Truce.”

  Callum hesitated then spat as well. They shook hands. Callum could feel Mitchell’s spit squelching against his palm. He tried very hard not to shudder with revulsion.

  When the brothers had left, Callum washed his hands again, thoroughly.

  Sophie helped Callum wheel backwards up the stairs so he could check on his grandmother. It was unusual for Callum to be up before his gran. She normally rose at seven sharp, bustling around, preparing herself and the household for the day. But it was nine o’clock and she still hadn’t stirred. She just lay on her back, snoring. This was also peculiar. Callum had never known Rose to snore before. This morning she sounded like a hippopotamus with a head cold.

  After watching his grandmother rasp unglamorously for a few minutes, Callum decided to act. He wheeled over to her bed and gently nudged the mattress with his hand.

  Rose gave a final snort then one of her eyes fluttered open. She stared at Callum.

  “What do you want?” she grunted.

  Callum was taken aback. There was no cheery “Good morning” or a pleasant “How did you sleep?”

  “Um, breakfast’s ready, Gran. Everyone’s in the kitchen.”

  Rose kept only one eye open.

  “Not hungry,” she said and rolled onto her side, away from her grandson.

  Callum gently nudged the bed again. “Are you al
l right, Gran?”

  “I was happily asleep until you started banging about like an elephant with a bee up its trunk,” snapped Rose. “Suppose I’d better get up now. Get me a cup of tea.”

  Callum rushed out of the room, stunned. He’d assumed that his grandmother’s rudeness from the previous night had been caused by shock, but she hadn’t improved. As Callum made tea, he thought about her behaviour and knew instantly what was wrong. He made sure that his aunt and uncle weren’t within earshot then called Sophie into the kitchen.

  “I’ve worked out what those men took from Gran,” he whispered.

  Sophie moved closer. “What?”

  Callum placed the teacup on a saucer, handing it to Sophie to carry. “Follow me, you’ll see.”

  Moments later Callum and Sophie were outside Rose’s bedroom door. Callum tapped lightly on the woodwork. Rose’s voice came from within. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Callum with your tea.”

  “About bloody time. Come in then.”

  Callum and Sophie looked at each other before entering the room. Rose was still in bed but was sitting up, pillows propped behind her. Her nightgown was rumpled and creased, and her hair was a mess. She’d made no effort to tidy herself up.

  “Good morning, Mrs McCullock,” said Sophie, cheerfully.

  “Mummph,” replied Rose. “Where’s my tea?”

  Sophie handed Rose the cup and saucer. She snatched it from the girl’s hand, gave another grunt then poured some tea out of the cup into the saucer. Tipping the saucer to her lips, she drank the tea with one long, noisy slurp.

  Callum and Sophie couldn’t believe their eyes; Rose normally drank in delicate sips with her pinkie extended.

  Once she had finished slurping, Rose wiped her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown and let out an almighty belch.

  Callum’s jaw dropped.

  “What are you two staring at?” demanded Rose.

  “Nothing, Gran.” Callum grabbed Sophie by the arm and led her to the door. “We’ll leave you in peace.”

  The two friends left the room to the sound of Rose breaking wind. Sophie’s eyes were wide with astonishment.

  “That was incredible. She was rude and crass and …” Sophie searched for the right word, “…well, horrible.”

  Callum nodded. “There’s no doubt about it. Those men have taken Gran’s manners and grace and generosity and pleasantness, and everything that makes her such a kind, loving person. It’s like they’ve sucked the goodness right out of her.”

  “You’re right.” Sophie gasped. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Callum, grimly. “But we’ve got to find out who did it and get her back to normal. And we’ve got two days to do it.”

  Sophie was puzzled. “Two days?”

  “In two days time Gran has her final interview with the welfare officer, and if they see her like this, they’ll take me away from her, Thanxton and all my friends, and place me with Rebecca’s family.” Callum’s voice shook with emotion; he was close to tears.

  Sophie was in real danger of losing her best friend. She touched his arm. “Don’t worry, Cal. We’ll get your gran back to how she was before; I promise.”

  Callum fought for composure. “We have to. We just have to.”

  Nine

  Lester was ecstatic when his employees returned with the golden globe of goodness. As soon as Darryl and Parson arrived back in his warehouse lair, he ran over to the van. He tore the briefcase from Parson’s hands and pulled out the tube, barely glancing at the men. Lester had eyes for only one thing. He scrutinised the golden glowing mass inside the tube. Clasping it to his chest, he smiled slow and long.

  Lester carefully placed the cylinder on a nearby workbench and switched his attention to his henchmen. The first thing he noticed was the stink. They smelled as if they’d been swimming in a sewer. Darryl was particularly ripe and streaks of thick grease covered his overalls. Parson constantly scratched at a white powder that dusted his head and chest.

  For a few moments Lester said nothing. Darryl and Parson shuffled uneasily. Finally, Lester spoke. “You did well tonight, exceeded expectations.”

  Darryl smiled.

  “Don’t get smug – expectations were low.”

  Darryl stopped smiling.

  “However, you have brought me something of great value and shall be rewarded. You are both promoted from henchmen to right-hand men.”

  Lester moved closer to Darryl and dipped a finger in a patch of grease. He held the blackened finger before Darryl’s face. “Clearly, this mission was not without its trials. Got anything to tell me?”

  Darryl looked at his feet and said nothing.

  Turning to Parson, Lester ran a different finger through the white powder on his chest, sniffed it then tasted it with the tip of his tongue. “Itching powder, if I’m not mistaken.” Lester rounded on his henchmen. “I hope you haven’t been seen by any children,” he roared.

  Parson shook his head so hard it nearly fell off. “No, boss, definitely not. One of the brats had booby trapped his room, and we walked into it, but they didn’t see us. No way.”

  Darryl hurriedly joined in. “All the kids were knocked out by the gas, boss, comatosed. I’m pretty certain we weren’t seen.”

  “Pretty certain?” Lester circled them like a shark.

  Darryl corrected himself. “Absolutely certain, boss. We weren’t seen. Like ghosts, we were.”

  Lester drew a curved knife from his belt. Parson and Darryl stiffened in fear. Lester used the knife to sharpen his talon-like nails. He smiled. “That’s fine then. I’m pleased you weren’t seen. Secrecy is very important to me; it allows this little operation to remain undetected. So if you had been spotted, I’d be very upset. Okay, you can go now. I imagine you’d like a shower.”

  Darryl’s and Parson’s bodies sagged with relief. They prepared to leave.

  “One more thing,” said Lester. “If I find out you’ve been lying, I will kill you – slowly and painfully.”

  He picked up the cylinder containing the golden globe and left the garage without another word.

  Callum and Sophie climbed into the rear of Rose’s car with a huge sense of relief. It was just after twelve o’clock and the atmosphere in the house had been arctic all morning.

  Ken had remained in his office, only coming out to say a curt goodbye. Rebecca clumped around the house with all the grace and charm of a wounded gorilla. Rose stayed entrenched in her room, as did Mitchell and Bradley. Callum and Sophie felt about as welcome as a zit on the night of the school ball.

  Callum watched from the car as his grandmother said goodbye to Rebecca. It was distressing to see his normally well-groomed gran in such a state. Her hair was uncombed, her make-up looked like it had been applied with a spray gun and her clothing was mismatched and crumpled. Her mood hadn’t improved either. Callum wound down the car window so he could hear what she was saying. Rose’s voice was loud and brash.

  “… bed was lumpy and you look like you need a decent meal; you’re too thin and too stupid for your own good. As for your worthless husband, I’ve seen puddles of mud with more spine. You won’t see me back in a hurry.”

  Rose turned her back on her stunned daughter and stomped towards the car. Before getting in, she added one final thing. “I must say though, I quite like the boys.”

  Callum whispered to Sophie, horrified. “Did you hear that?”

  “That confirms our theory,” said Sophie. “No one with any goodness left could like those kids.”

  Rose got in the car and slammed the door. “What are you brats jabbering about?”

  “Nothing, Gran,” Callum replied quickly.

  “You’d better keep the noise down. I’ve got a headache and don’t need you two yapping in the back.”

  Rose started the car and drove away without waving goodbye. Callum and Sophie sat in the rear, afraid to talk. As they headed out of the suburbs, Sophie typed a note on her phone
and passed it to Callum. It read “Tracker activated”.

  This was their only hope of finding the thieves.

  Sophie clicked a button on her phone bringing up an unauthorised screen she had downloaded from the internet. She plugged in her headphones and passed one of the earpieces to Callum. If Rose checked on them, it would look like they were sitting quietly, listening to music.

  Just before they left the city limits, the phone’s screen came alive and a pulsating red dot appeared on the map. Sophie gave Callum an excited nudge. The signal was only two streets from their current location. It was time to initiate the plan they had come up with before leaving his cousins’ house. Callum pulled the headphone from his ear and leaned over the seat to speak to his grandmother. He pointed to a roadside cafe.

  “Can we stop for lunch please, Gran?”

  The old lady glanced at her wristwatch. It was twelve-thirty. She made an annoyed clicking sound with her tongue and grudgingly swung the car into the cafe’s car park.

  “You’re lucky I’m hungry.”

  Sophie waited until Rose was at the counter ordering a second helping of cake then slipped a sedative she’d borrowed from Rebecca’s bathroom cabinet into the old lady’s tea. Callum knew even Bad Rose wouldn’t let them go wandering around the industrial estate by themselves. Their only option was to ensure that she had a nice long nap. Once Callum’s grandmother showed signs of drowsiness, they helped her back to the car and installed her in the driver’s seat with a pillow behind her head. Before long Rose fell into a deep slumber and the sound of a congested hippopotamus could be heard again.

  Ten minutes and fifty-two locator blips later Sophie and Callum were in front of Big Al’s Used Car Parts, the business that hid Lester’s lair. At first sight the business seemed to be just an auto parts yard. Customers filed in and out of a roomy retail shop that sold everything from chrome wheel nuts to those airpumps that make a pssspt sound. Several shop assistants in Big Al’s uniforms milled around the customers, helping them to buy things their cars didn’t really need.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” said Callum.