by David Parkin
“This bucked’s gedding really heavy,” said Christopher. “Led’s just finish off this road den head back.”
“Okey-dokey,” said Lauren. She turned the corner to the next house’s drive and stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh…”
“Whad is id? You seen a ghosd?”
Christopher chuckled at his joke.
Lauren reached up under her sheet and used it to wipe her glasses. She looked around her for a while.
“Whad’s wrong wid you?”
“I … it’s just …” Lauren looked to her brother and then back to the house. “Erm, its nothing … doesn’t matter…” She shook her head.
“Righd shall we carry on den?”
“If you’re sure you want to?”
“Course I’m sure, whad are you on aboud? Come on.”
Christopher marched down to the door and rang the bell. He glanced back at his sister, who was still hesitating on the driveway. “Hurry up, we wand do ged the full effecd!”
Lauren scuttled up to her brother’s side, “Listen Christopher, there’s something I need to tell you … this house…”
“Well hello there, and what terrifying visions do I see before me?”
Christopher frowned. That voice.
He looked up to the man in the open doorway.
“Dad?”
The bucket slipped from his fingers. Little Big Nose sneezed in shock and slid right off his face.
Lauren raised her sheet and smiled awkwardly.
“Hiya, Dad.”
Christopher reached down and quickly shoved Little Big Nose in his pocket. His father looked into the darkness.
“Chris? Is that you?” A huge smile spread across his face. “Great costume!” Suddenly he became very flustered.
“Do you need some more elastic for that nose? I think I’ve got some somewhere…”
Christopher turned and ran as fast as he could.
“Chris,” said Mr Postlethwaite. “Don’t go.”
“Sorry Dad,” said Lauren. “He didn’t know it was your house. I should have told him. Here, take this.” Lauren whipped off her sheet and ran after her brother.
By the time she caught up with him he was leaning against a lamp post, breathing in big gasps, tears rolling down his face.
“Christopher…”
He looked at her with blazing eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t plan it. I thought you might be happy.”
Christopher ran his sleeve across his cheek, smudging his make-up.
“Happy, why would I be happy?” he shouted. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to see him!”
“But Chris, you can’t go through life without ever seeing him…”
“But that’s what you don’t understand!” A huge sob jolted his body but Christopher breathed it in and blinked back the tears. “I don’t care if I never see him again,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Christopher, you don’t mean that.”
“I do!” he yelled as he spun away. “Now leave me alone!”
“Christopher, I’m sorry! Wait for me … I’m sorry.”
Christopher ran into the night and Lauren ran after him. Not so far away, their father quietly picked up the scattered sweets that littered his driveway and, with deliberate care, gently placed each one back into the discarded bucket.
Christopher gazed at the photo. The Christopher in the photo was obviously a lot younger, but his father was unchanged. They were both standing in an early version of Christopher’s garden. The younger Christopher was almost hidden, smiling out from a tangled plant, a gardening fork in his hand. His father stood over him, leaning jauntily on a spade and looking off into the distance with a lopsided grin.
A sad wind moaned against the house and Christopher rested his elbows on the windowsill and looked out into the black night.
Little Big Nose rested on his shoulder.
“Is your father a bad man?” he whispered into his ear.
“Yes,” said Christopher with a dark frown, and then uncertainly, “Well, sort of…”
He slumped forward and put his forehead against the windowpane. “Not really, I guess…”
“He never hurt you or was mean?”
“Well no, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him.”
“So what did he do that has upset you so much?”
Christopher took Little Big Nose from his shoulder and placed him down on the windowsill.
“What do you think he did?” he said. “He left…”
“But you can still see him whenever you want?”
“Yes.”
“And he doesn’t live far away…”
“No, but,” Christopher got to his feet. “He still left didn’t he?”
“But I don’t see…”
“Everything was good before he went,” said Christopher, his voice rising. “Everything was fine and then he had to leave and spoil it all. I hate him.”
“I don’t believe that to be true for a second.”
Christopher collapsed back into his chair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
The wind howled and a fox screeched somewhere in the night.
“You know,” said Little Big Nose. “There’s an old slug saying…”
“Here we go…” groaned Christopher.
“The old slug saying says that every trail starts with love.” Little Big Nose paused before adding, “Your father seemed very happy to see you today.”
Christopher stomped over to his bed, “I said I don’t want to talk about it!”
“You know I don’t have a family anymore and I miss them very much…”
“Oh yeah?” said Christopher. “Well maybe you do. Maybe you do have a family. I mean, Doctor Skinner made you!”
“I don’t think you can compare…”
“That makes him your dad, sort of, and you’re not so eager to kiss and make up with him, are you?”
The moment he said it, Christopher regretted it.
There was a stony silence.
“I think,” said the nose, “that I should rather like to go for a trundle around the garden.”
“Little Big Nose…”
“Please.”
Christopher sighed and walked over to the nose. He picked up his friend, opened the window and placed him on the branch that the nose used to get to and from the garden.
“Erm … Little Big Nose, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” said the nose. “I just think that both of us could use a good think.”
“I’m sorry.” Christopher watched his friend crawl along the branch down to the garden. “Goodnight…” Little Big Nose sniffed the air once or twice and then disappeared into a bush.
Christopher shut the window and drew the curtains. He looked at the picture of his dad one last time and then sloped off to bed. Before he turned off the light he placed the photo back under his pillow.
The Monster in the Garden
An icy wind chased around the Postlethwaite garden, shaking the leaves and bending the trees. Rain whipped against the ground and thunder rolled around the clouds. All the creatures of the garden hid silently in their nests and holes.
There was one figure, sitting on top of a rock in Christopher’s patch of land, who seemed oblivious to the weather…
Arnold the gnome proudly held his rod aloft, smiled firmly and sat in silence as the storm spun around him. He’d seen worse.
Suddenly a bush began to shake with the sound of twigs snapping and angry muttering. A large foot appeared and crunched down upon the gnome. Arnold shattered into tiny jagged pieces.
“I can’t see a blasted thing,” grumbled Doctor Skinner as he
stepped out of the bush. “What is all this junk?”
The doctor clattered through Christopher’s displays, knocking over soldiers and zombie dolls, stepping in swamps and tripping over caves.
“Get out of the way … what a load of old tat … oops…” With a lurch and a stumble the doctor was free of the jumbled chaos.
He brushed himself down and looked through the row of little trees to the house.
“The only Postlethwaites in the town.” He chuckled. “This must be the place.”
Doctor Skinner reached into his pocket and pulled out a limp Scuttler.
“Well, my little five-fingered friend, this could be your finest hour.” He placed the hand on the ground. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
From his other pocket, Doctor Skinner produced Scuttler’s remote control, held together by tape.
“Got to stop stamping on things when they don’t work…” He pressed a knob and the controls whirred to life.
Scuttler twitched. The eye opened slowly and stared at the doctor.
The tiny monitor crackled and Doctor Skinner inspected it.
“Have to engage night vision, I think.” He flicked a switch, Scuttler’s eyeball glowed a dark red and the monitor revealed a hands-eye view of the garden.
“Brilliant. All systems go.”
The doctor furrowed his brow and pushed a big red button. The hand rose to its fingertips and tensed, like a sprinter waiting for the starting pistol.
“On your marks, get set … GO!” The Doctor furiously fiddled with the remote and Scuttler was off, scampering across the grass. Its fingers were a blur of motion as it wove through the garden toward the house. The hand stopped by the back door and the glowing red eye stared upwards at an opened window.
“Excellent,” said Doctor Skinner. “But how to get up there?”
He twiddled a lever and the eyeball scanned around. A drainpipe came into view.
Doctor Skinner pawed the control sticks and began to sing quietly to himself.
“Incy wincy spider … crawling up the spout…” Scuttler grabbed the drainpipe and began to grapple up the side of the house. “Creep inside the bedroom and take the nosey out.”
The hand leapt from the drainpipe to the windowsill with quiet expertise.
“Almost there. Here we go … oopsy daisy.”
Scuttler eased through the window and landed on the bedroom floor with a quiet thud.
Doctor Skinner looked at the monitor. “Now … where are we?”
A teddy bear lay abandoned on the floor.
“Well … it’s definitely a kid’s room. Let’s see whose!”
Scuttler crawled over the bear and toward the bed.
Doctor Skinner’s tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth with concentration. “Must be extra quiet.”
Scuttler slowly bent its knuckles and then pounced upon the bed sheet.
The red eyeball swivelled, throwing a dark orange glow upon Lauren’s sleeping face.
“Rats. Wrong brat. But the boy can’t be far away.”
Scuttler crept to the edge of the bed and hopped to the floor … then the screen went blank.
“What?” The doctor shook the remote and banged it with his fist.
Nothing.
His cheeks flushed deep purple as the rain whipped around him.
He closed his eyes tight and whispered to himself. “Calm down … calm down. It’s probably just out of range.”
As he crept through the row of trees he sucked deep breaths through his clenched teeth. “Get a little closer and try again…”
He got as near to the house as he dared. “Let’s hope no-one’s up…”
The porch lights picked out his shining eyes as he stood silhouetted against the shaking trees. “Okay, you’d better work now or there’s going to be big trouble.”
He looked down to the dead controls, and noticed a small movement out of the corner of his eye and heard a familiar snuffle.
“What have we here?”
He peered down into the darkness, and a dreadful grin spread across his face.
The bad weather had caught Little Big Nose by surprise during his midnight trundle, so he had decided to get under the bush and sit it out.
“Just the specimen I’m looking for!”
Doctor Skinner’s six fingers grabbed him. Little Big Nose opened his nostrils and screamed for help.
But no one heard.
His slug distress call was soon lost in the night, drowned by the rain … swallowed up by the storm.
Screams in the Morning
That morning Christopher was woken up by a high-pitched scream. Lauren burst though the door in her nightie, jumped on to the end of his bed and hugged her knees tight to her chest.
Christopher glared over the edge of his duvet. “Get out. I’m not talking to you.”
“I’m really sorry about last night.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am, truly. I didn’t have time to think.” She shivered. “Anyway. I don’t care if you’re still angry with me, I’m not leaving this bed until you’ve got rid of it.”
“Got rid of what?”
“The thing in my room.”
“Oh no … not again.”
“But, this ones … this one’s huge!”
“It’s just a tiny harmless creature…”
“I promise to you that this is the biggest spider I have seen in my entire life!”
Christopher sat up on his elbows and glowered at his sister. She was staring at his door intently, as if she expected a monster to burst into the room at any moment.
“You’re not even wearing your glasses!” he cried, falling back into bed. “It’s probably nothing, like the time you thought that scarf was a snake.”
“That was years ago,” said Lauren. “And besides, when a spider that gigantic is in your room, you don’t stop to put your glasses on!”
“Why is it always me who has to deal with these emergencies? What’s wrong with Mum?”
Lauren stuck out her bottom lip. “I don’t know … you’re just better with stuff like this. You’re good with animals. I know you won’t hurt it.”
“So even though you think it’s the biggest most dangerous looking spider you have ever seen…”
“Possibly an African species. They sometimes get shipped over in banana boxes…”
“…you don’t want me to hurt it.”
Lauren jumped from the bed and pulled at Christopher’s arm.
“Come on, please Christopher. I promise this is the last time…”
Christopher grumpily lurched from the bed. “It better be, he said.
Lauren took his hand and led him out to the landing.
“It’s all right … I’m coming,” Christopher shook his hand free. “What have I told you about grabbing my hand?”
“Everything alright up there?” yelled Mrs Postlethwaite.
“Fine, Mum,” replied Christopher. “Just another infestation of man-eating super spiders in Lauren’s room.”
“You wait to you see it,” muttered Lauren. “You won’t be laughing then.”
Christopher grabbed a pen and edged closer. Scuttler was lying palm upwards on the floor, like a dead crab. Christopher knelt down as close as he dared to the lifeless hand.
Lauren stood in the corner of the room biting her fingernails. “Throw it out the window…”
“Be quiet…”
The pen trembled as Christopher reached across and poked.
The fingers twitched and Christopher jumped backwards with a yelp.
“It’s not so funny now, is it?” said Lauren. “Is it dead?”
Christopher pulled himself together and took another look
. Scuttler hadn’t moved. “I’m not sure…” He glanced at the electronic device on Scuttler’s wrist. It didn’t seem to be active. None of the lights were flashing. He was pretty sure the machine wasn’t on.
Christopher breathed in and braced himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and quickly grabbed one of Scuttler’s fingers. The hand flinched a little and then was still.
Lauren put on her glasses and crept across the room.
“What do you think it is?” She looked over her brother’s shoulder. “I told you it was too big to come from…”
The words stuck in her throat as her eyes focussed on Scuttler.
Christopher turned around to face his trembling sister.
“What … what is that?”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I think its batteries must have run out or something…”
“Batteries? What do you mean, batteries?”
Christopher stood up and placed his hands on Lauren’s shoulders.
“Listen, I know what it is…” Christopher looked into his sister’s eyes. “But if I tell you, you have to promise to keep him a secret.”
“Keep who a secret?”
“Little Big Nose.”
Christopher froze.
“Oh no … Little Big Nose!” he shouted and ran from the room.
“Little Big what?” Lauren glanced down at the hand. “Christopher, don’t just leave me here with this thing … Christopher, WAIT!”
Nosenapped
“He’s gone,” said Christopher as he threw the empty shoebox to the floor. “Nosenapped.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Doctor Skinner’s nosenapped him.”
Lauren frowned angrily at her brother. “Christopher, I am this close to calling Mum and telling her there is a dead hand in my bedroom.”
“No wait … don’t…” Christopher flopped onto his bed. “I’ll tell you … I’ll tell you everything.”