Uncanny!

by Paul Jennings

  I ran down the street feeling as guilty as sin. This thing was powerful. It could make people do things backwards.

  I stopped at the corner. There, talking to his mean mate Rabbit, was Guts Garvey. This was my big chance to get into his good books. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘Take a squizz at this.’ I held out the remote control.

  Guts Garvey grabbed it from my hand. ‘Yuck,’ he growled. ‘Green chocolate. Buzz off bird brain.’ He lifted up the remote control. He was going to throw it at me.

  ‘No,’ I yelled. ‘It’s a remote control. From a video. You press the black things.’ Guts Garvey looked at me. Then he looked at the control. He didn’t believe me but he pressed one of the buttons.

  Rabbit was bouncing a basketball up and down on the footpath He suddenly froze. So did the ball. Rabbit stood there on one leg and the ball floated without moving, halfway between his hand and the ground. Guts Garvey’s mouth dropped open. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The statue of Rabbit was still there.

  ‘Press FORWARD,’ I said, pointing to the top button.

  Guts pressed the control again and Rabbit finished bouncing the ball. I smiled. I could see that Guts was impressed. He turned and looked at me. Then he pointed the remote control straight at my face. ‘No,’ I screamed. ‘No.’

  But I was too late. Guts Garvey pressed the button. He ‘paused’ me. I couldn’t move. I just stood there with both arms frozen up in the air. My eyes stared. They didn’t move. Nothing moved. I was rock solid. Guts and Rabbit laughed. Then they ran off.

  5

  People gathered round. At first they laughed. A whole circle of kids and adults looking at the stupid dill standing there like a statue. Someone waved their hand in front of my face. A girl poked me. ‘He’s good,’ said someone. ‘He’s not moving a muscle.’

  I tried to speak. My mouth wouldn’t move. My tongue wouldn’t budge. The crowd got bigger. I felt an idiot.

  What a fool. Dozens of people were staring at me wondering why I was standing there posed like a picture on the wall. Then I stopped feeling stupid. I felt scared. What if I stayed like this forever? Not breathing. Not moving. Not alive, not dead. What would they do with me? Put me in the garden like a garden gnome? Stash me away in a museum? Bury me alive? It was too terrible to think about.

  Suddenly I collapsed. I puddled onto the ground. Everyone laughed. I stood up and ran off as fast as I could go. As I ran I tried to figure it out. Why had I suddenly gone off pause? Then I realised what it was. I remembered my Uncle Frank’s video. If you put it on pause and went away it would start up again automatically after three or four minutes. The movie would come off pause and keep going. That’s what had happened to me.

  I looked ahead. I could just make out two tiny figures in the distance. It was Rabbit and Guts Garvey. With my remote control. I had to get it back. The dirty rats had nicked it. I didn’t care about getting in Guts Garvey’s good books any more. I just wanted my controller back.

  And revenge. I wanted revenge.

  I ran like a mad thing after them.

  It was no good. I was out of breath and they were too far away. I couldn’t catch them. I looked around. Shaun Potter, a kid from school, was sitting on his horse, Star, on the other side of the road. I rushed over to him. ‘Help,’ I said. ‘You’ve got to help. Guts Garvey has pinched my remote control. I’ve got to get it back. It’s a matter of life and death.’

  Shaun looked at me. He wasn’t a bad sort of kid. He was one of the few people in the school who had been kind to me. He wasn’t exactly a friend. He was too scared of Guts Garvey for that. But I could tell by the way he smiled and nodded at me that he liked me. I jumped from foot to foot. I was beside myself. I had to get that remote control back. Shaun hesitated for a second or two. Then he said, ‘Okay, hop up.’

  I put one foot in the stirrup and Shaun pulled me up behind him onto Star’s back. ‘They went that way,’ I yelled.

  Star went into a trot and then a canter. I held on for grim death. I had never been on a horse before. I bumped up and down behind Shaun. The ground seemed a long way down. I was scared but I didn’t say anything. I had to catch Guts Garvey and Rabbit. We sped down the street past all the parked cars and people crossing the road.

  ‘There they are,’ I yelled. Guts and Rabbit were in a line of people waiting for a bus. Shaun slowed Star down to a walk. Guts Garvey looked up and saw us. He pulled the remote control from his pocket. ‘Oh no,’ I yelled. Not that.’

  6

  I don’t know whether or not Star sensed danger. Anyway, he did what horses often do at such times. He lifted up his tail and let a large steaming flow of horse droppings fall onto the road. Then he took a few steps towards Guts and the line of people.

  Guts pointed the remote control at us and hit the REWIND button. ‘Stop,’ I screamed. But it was too late. Star began to go into reverse. She walked a few steps backwards. The pile of horse droppings began to stir. It twisted and lifted. Then it flew through the air – back to where it came from.

  The line of people roared. Some laughed. Some screamed. Some ran off. How embarrassing. I was filled with shame. Poor Star went into a backwards trot. Then, suddenly she froze. We all froze. Guts had hit the PAUSE button. He had turned Shaun, Star and me into statues.

  While we were standing there like stiff dummies the bus pulled up. All the people in the queue piled on. They couldn’t get on quickly enough. They wanted to get away from the mad boys and their even madder horse.

  After four or five minutes the pause effect wore off. We were able to move. I climbed down off Star’s back. ‘Sorry,’ I said to Shaun. ‘I didn’t know that was going to happen.’

  Shaun stared down at me. He looked pale. ‘I think I’ve just had a bad dream,’ he said. ‘In the middle of the day. I think I’d better go home.’ He shook his head slowly and then trotted off.

  7

  ‘Rats,’ I said to myself. Everything was going wrong. I had lost the remote control. Guts Garvey had nicked it and there was nothing I could do about it. I was too scared to go near him in case he put me into reverse again. I felt terrible. I walked home with slow, sad footsteps.

  When I got home Dad was mad because the remote control had disappeared. I couldn’t tell him what had happened. He would never believe it. I had to spend most of the weekend pretending to help him look for it. The video wouldn’t work without the control.

  On Monday it was back to school as usual. Back to wandering around with no one to talk to.

  As I walked around the schoolyard my stomach rumbled. I was hungry. Very hungry. I hadn’t had anything to eat since tea time on Friday night. The reason for this was simple. This was the day of The Great Spaghetti Pig-out. A competition to see who could eat the most spaghetti bolognaise in fifteen minutes.

  The grand final was to be held in the school hall. The winner received a free trip to London for two and the entrance money went to charity. I had a good chance of winning. Even though I was skinny I could eat a lot when I was hungry. I had won all the heats. My record was ten bowls of spaghetti bolognaise in fifteen minutes. Maybe if I won the competition I would also win the respect of the kids. I was going to give the tickets to London to Mum and Dad. They needed a holiday badly.

  I didn’t see Guts Garvey until just before the competition. He kept out of my sight all day. I knew he was cooking up some scheme but I didn’t know what it was.

  There were four of us up on the platform. Me, two girls and Guts Garvey. The hall was packed with kids and teachers. I felt confident but nervous. I knew that I could win. I looked at Guts Garvey and saw that he was grinning his head off. Then I saw Rabbit in the front row. His pocket was bulging. Rabbit had something in his pocket and I thought I knew what it was.

  They were up to no good. Guts and Rabbit had something cooked up and it wasn’t spaghetti.

  The plates of steaming spaghetti bolognaise were lined up in front of us. Everything was ready for the starter to say ‘go’. My empty stomach was in a kno
t. My mind was spinning. I tried to figure out what they were up to. What if I ate five plates of spaghetti and Rabbit put me into reverse? I would un-eat it like the man in the cafe. I would go backwards and take all of the spaghetti out and put it back on the plate. My knees started to knock.

  I decided to back out of the competition. I couldn’t go through with it.

  ‘Go,’ yelled Mr Stepney, the school Principal. It was too late. I had to go on.

  I started shovelling spaghetti into my mouth. There was no time to mix in the meat sauce. I just pushed in the platefuls as they came. One, two, three. The winner would be the one to eat the most plates in fifteen minutes.

  I watched Guts and the others out of the corner of my eye. I was already ahead by two bowls. In, out, in, out. Spaghetti, spaghetti, spaghetti. I was up to seven bowls, Guts had eaten only four and the two girls had managed two each. I was going to win. Mum and Dad would be pleased.

  Rabbit was watching us from the front row. I noticed Guts nod to him. Rabbit took something out of his pocket. I could see that it was the remote control. He was going to put me on rewind. I was gone.

  But no. Rabbit was not pointing the control at me. He pointed it at Guts. What was going on? I soon found out. Guts began eating the spaghetti at enormous speed. Just like a movie on fast forward. His fork went up and down to his mouth so quickly that you could hardly see it. He licked like lightning. He swallowed at top speed. Boy did he go. His arms whirled. The spaghetti flew. Ten, eleven, twelve bowls. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. He was plates ahead. I didn’t have a chance to catch up to Guts the guzzling gourmet. He fed his face like a whirlwind. It was incredible. Inedible. But it really happened.

  Rabbit had put Guts on FAST FORWARD so that he would eat more plates than me in the fifteen minutes. It wasn’t fair. But there was nothing I could do.

  The audience cheered and shouted. They thought that Guts was fantastic. No one had ever seen anything like it before. He was up to forty bowls. I had only eaten ten and the two girls six each. The siren blew. Guts was the winner. I was second.

  He had eaten forty bowls. No one had ever eaten forty bowls of spaghetti before. Rabbit hit FORWARD on the control and Guts stopped eating. Everyone cheered Guts. I looked at my shoes. I felt ill and it wasn’t just from eating ten plates of spaghetti. I swallowed. I had to keep it all down. That was one of the rules – you weren’t allowed to be sick. If you threw up you lost the competition.

  8

  Guts stood up. He looked a bit funny. His face was a green colour. His stomach swelled out over his belt. He started to sway from side to side. Then he opened his mouth.

  Out it came. A great tumbling surge of spew. A tidal wave of swallowed spaghetti and meat sauce. It flowed down the table and onto the floor. A brown and white lake of sick. Guts staggered and tottered. He lurched to the edge of the stage. He opened his mouth again and let forth another avalanche. The kids in the front row screamed as the putrid waterfall splashed down. All over Rabbit.

  Rabbit shrieked and sent the remote control spinning into the air. I jumped forward and grabbed it.

  I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I couldn’t help myself. I pointed the control at Guts and the river of sick.

  Then I pressed REWIND.

  9

  After that Guts Garvey was not very popular at school. To say the least. But I had lots of friends. And Mum and Dad had a great time in London.

  And as to what happened to the remote control … Well. That’s another story.

  Know All

  The old box lay half buried in the sand. I wish that I had never seen it. I wish the storm hadn’t uncovered it. I wish we hadn’t dug it up. But it’s no good wishing. We did dig it up and we took the old chest home. And everything went wrong.

  ‘I wonder what’s in it?’ said Dad. He was like a big kid. He loved bringing home junk from the beach. Every day he would climb down our cliff and walk along the sand looking for stuff that had washed up.

  I looked at the box and shivered. I just had a feeling about it. I didn’t like it. It wasn’t like the other things Dad had brought from the beach. His other finds were all hanging off the walls and ceiling. We had empty cray pots, old buoys, fish nets, driftwood, bottles and other junk scattered about in every room. But this was different. This trunk had bad vibes.

  ‘Don’t open it,’ I said. ‘Let’s take it back.’

  ‘Whatever for, Kate? There could be something valuable inside.’

  ‘Like treasure,’ said my brother Matthew. ‘It could be full of jewels.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Let’s take it back to the beach and leave it. There is something awful inside. I just know it.’

  Matthew looked at me. ‘Sometimes you’re a bit of a know-all Kate. You couldn’t possibly know what is in that box.’

  ‘It’s old,’ said Dad, ‘and it’s waterproof. All the joins are covered in tar. Whatever is inside might still be in good nick.’ He picked up his hacksaw and began cutting away at the old, rusty padlock.

  I didn’t want to watch. I went outside and stared out to sea. The salt mist hung heavily in the air. Offshore I could see two whales spouting in the swell.

  I heard a sudden call from the kitchen. ‘Got it. Got it.’

  ‘Come and help,’ yelled Matthew. ‘Don’t be a sad sack Kate. Come and help.’

  I went back into the kitchen and saw Dad and Matthew struggling away with a lever. The lock was off but the lid was stuck and they couldn’t get it open. I stood back and shook my head. I didn’t want to help.

  Then, slowly, with a creak and a groan it yielded.

  The lid began to lift. They both stared inside in silence.

  ‘Wow,’ said Matthew after a bit. ‘Look at that.’

  It wasn’t treasure. I could tell by the way he said ‘wow’ that it wasn’t that good.

  2

  ‘Well I’ll be blowed,’ said Dad. ‘It’s clothes. It’s full of clothes.’ He reached in and started dumping them on the floor. Soon there was a big pile of them heaped up on the carpet.

  They weren’t just ordinary clothes. They were old. But there was something else as well. These were special outfits. One of them was covered in stars and moons. Another consisted of a frilly dress with tights. There was a top hat and a blade coat and heaps of other combinations.

  Dad picked up a pair of baggy trousers. Folded up inside them was a pair of enormous shoes and a long false nose. ‘Circus outfits,’ said Dad. ‘They are clothes from a circus.’ He seemed a bit disappointed. I think that secretly he had been hoping for treasure too.

  Matthew laid all of the clothes out in order on the floor. There was a knife-thrower’s outfit – it had a leather belt with places for the knives. There was a juggler’s costume and a clown’s. There was also a fortune teller’s outfit and two sets of tightrope walkers’ clothes. Altogether there were about fifteen different sets.

  I looked at the two tightrope walkers’ outfits – one was blue and one was red. They both consisted of tights and tops covered in silver stars. Matthew held the red outfit up to himself. ‘This would fit me,’ he said with a grin.

  A shiver went down my spine. ‘Don’t put it on,’ I told him.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked.

  ‘I just have a feeling,’ I said. ‘I think that it once belonged to someone mean. Someone awful. Someone cruel. Someone dead.’

  Matthew laughed. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I won’t put it on. But what will we do with them all? And where did they come from?’

  ‘From a shipwreck,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll bet a ship with circus people in it was wrecked off the cliff. Years ago. This trunk has been buried in the sand ever since.’ He gave me a big grin. ‘It might not be treasure but it can still be useful. We’ll put one of the outfits on the scarecrow.’

  Dad pointed to the scarecrow at the bottom of our garden. Two crows and a starling were sitting on top of it. The birds actually seemed to like this old scarecrow. It had never worked. All it ever did was provide a
handy seat for the crows.

  ‘Which outfit?’ said Matthew. ‘Will we have a clown scarecrow or what?’

  ‘The red tightrope walker,’ answered Dad. ‘Seeing Kate doesn’t like that costume we will put it on the scarecrow.’ Dad picked up the red tights and jacket and walked down the garden. He pulled off the old clothes and put the new ones on. It was the strangest scarecrow I had ever seen. It looked a bit like Superman. Matthew ran back inside and fetched the top hat. He banged it onto the scarecrow’s head. We all laughed.

  But the scarecrow didn’t laugh.

  ‘Its face seems different,’ I said.

  ‘It’s still smiling like before,’ said Matthew.

  ‘I know,’ I answered. ‘But it isn’t a nice smile any more. It seems to be leering. It seems to be leering at Dad. It doesn’t like Dad. It’s the clothes. The clothes don’t like Dad because he’s put them out here on the scarecrow.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Dad as we walked back to the house. Whoever heard of clothes not liking anything?’ I turned and looked at the scarecrow. One of its hands was bunched up into a fist. It looked just as if it was threatening to punch someone. I had never noticed its hand bunched up like that before. I thought that it must have happened when Dad put the red tightrope walker’s outfit on it.

  Matthew fooled around with the other costumes all afternoon. He put on the clown’s baggy pants and long nose. He really did look funny and Dad and I couldn’t stop laughing. The pants kept falling down all the time and Matthew tripped over his own feet so many times that it’s a wonder he didn’t hurt himself. He made a terrific clown. Good enough to be in a circus. Which was a bit strange really because normally Matthew is serious and not very funny at all.