Charlie Turns Into a T-Rex

by Sam Copeland

  ‘Not sure Dylan would agree. That noise had him running out of the building with his fingers in his ears.’ And that was it. That was Mohsen’s voice. All his friends were safe, and nothing else mattered to Charlie. ‘Actually,’ Mohsen continued, ‘whales usually only sing when they are deep in the water. We’re very lucky to hear it.’

  Charlie felt a soft hand on his flank.

  ‘And to see him!’ Charlie heard Flora say. ‘Just look at him! He’s extraordinary.’

  Flora walked next to Charlie, trailing her hand along his body until she arrived at his eye.

  She smiled. ‘Hello there, you.’

  Charlie thought he would burst with happiness.

  ‘It’s time for you to change back to Charlie.’

  She’s right, thought Charlie. It was time. But then he remembered how much danger he had put his friends in, and how much trouble they would definitely now be in. All because of him.

  And he found he didn’t want to change back. He just wanted to lie there.

  ‘Come on, Charlie,’ said Mohsen. ‘Dylan’s getting away. We need to catch him and get his phone, in case he recorded anything!’

  Charlie let out a small huff from his blowhole in reply.

  ‘Charlie,’ said Flora, looking sternly into his eye. ‘We need you to come back. The four of us stick together whatever, so you have to come back to us.’

  With a great effort Charlie closed his eyelid so he could blank out the sight of Flora. It was too painful to see her, knowing how much trouble he had got them in. How he had nearly killed them all.

  ‘Now look here, Charlie McGuffin!’ shouted Flora, pulling up the great flap of Charlie’s eyelid so he had to look at her. ‘You need to snap out of this. You may be a whale but I can still tell when you are feeling sorry for yourself, with all that huffing and puffing out of your blowhole! It’s time you realized that me, Wogan and Mohsen are our own people and able to make our own decisions! We decided to help you! You didn’t make us. So this isn’t all your fault. We are a team, and we stick together, and that is what friends are for.’

  Somewhere deep down in the hidden depths of Whale-Charlie’s mind a light flickered in the darkness. The light felt something like happiness.

  Wogan crunched up to Charlie’s eye, and started shouting as well. ‘And another thing: you’re a great big whale and you’re on dry land and you’ll die without water. And I’m sorry to say there’s not a sandwich box full of wee to save you this time. I’d have to fill an Olympic-sized swimming pool and that would take ages. And I don’t even need a wee right now.’

  Mohsen walked up to Charlie’s head. ‘I actually do need a wee,’ he said, a look of great seriousness on his face. ‘Maybe if we all weed in something together, we could …’

  Flora gave Mohsen a withering stare.

  ‘I just thought … you know …’ he continued nervously. ‘Like you said … we should all stick together …’

  Wogan nodded. ‘Yes! If we all wee together, then maybe –’

  Flora had had enough. ‘That is the worst idea you two have ever come up with! You want to stick Charlie in your wee AGAIN?! What even do you think you are going to wee into? Do you happen to have an Olympic-sized swimming pool handy? And if you did, do you have ANY idea how long it would take to fill it with wee?fn2 No! Exactly! You are the biggest pair of –’

  And as he watched his friends arguing over Olympic-sized swimming pools of wee Charlie felt happiness flood through him. He didn’t deserve such good friends, but he was very lucky to have them. And just like that, Charlie began to change.

  He shrank and shrank until he was a normal boy again.

  A normal boy, surrounded by his three best friends, in a building he had accidentally just half destroyed.

  He stood up and dusted himself down, a wide smile on his face. ‘Hi, guys,’ Charlie said, grinning. ‘I have to say I’m delighted that you didn’t have a swimming pool full of wee as –’

  Charlie stopped talking as soon as he saw it.

  There in the corner of the room.

  The safe from Mr Van der Gruyne’s office. It must have come tumbling all the way down with Charlie.

  And, unbelievably, Charlie could see the door was open a crack. It must have broken open in the collapse. The friends all saw where Charlie was looking.

  ‘Go on, Charlie,’ said Mohsen. ‘Go and look in it.’

  Charlie was frozen to the spot, though, not daring to believe what he was seeing – that by some extraordinary accident the safe with the stolen gold in was actually now open – not daring to dream that he might have just saved his parents.

  Finally Charlie crunched over to the safe, hopping over chickens, nerves jangling. He knelt down, dragged open the huge door and looked inside.

  Charlie looked at his friends, aghast. ‘It’s empty,’ he said flatly.

  ‘Empty?’ asked Wogan.

  Charlie nodded.

  ‘Like COMPLETELY empty?’

  Charlie nodded again.

  Wogan stormed over to the safe, and popped his head inside.

  ‘It’s empty,’ he said, his head still in the safe.

  ‘Like COMPLETELY empty?’ asked Mohsen.

  Wogan nodded, but nobody saw because his head was still in the safe.

  ‘Well, that’s it,’ said Charlie. ‘I’m finished. Done for. No gold means my parents have to sell the house and we have to move into Aunt Brenda’s. This is goodbye, guys.’

  Silence fell on the four friends like fog at night.

  Charlie sat on the floor, head in hands. He felt utterly defeated.

  ‘And just look at this place,’ he added. ‘All this mess. For nothing.’

  Flora, Wogan and Mohsen, looked around in silence.

  Charlie fell back and groaned. ‘I just want to change into a slug or something and slime off under a rock and completely forget that I’m Charlie.’

  ‘Dylan,’ said Flora abruptly.

  The others looked at her.

  ‘What about him?’ Wogan said.

  ‘He must know where the gold is hidden.’

  ‘Yeah, probably,’ Wogan said. ‘But he’ll never tell us.’

  Flora thumped her palm. ‘We’ll make him!’

  ‘But he’s gone! He ran out of the building.’

  ‘We can catch him! Or Charlie can at least. He just needs to change into something fast.’

  Charlie looked up. Despite everything, a sliver of hope gleamed in his eyes. ‘I guess it might be worth a try …’

  ‘That’s the spirit! Come on!’

  The four friends started running, and then sprang up the half-destroyed stairs. A moment later they were standing outside the gate of Van der Gruyne Industries, scanning for Dylan.

  ‘There!’ shouted Flora. ‘At the end of the street!’

  In the distance was a small figure – and it was unmistakably Dylan.

  ‘Now quick, Charlie! Change!’ Flora urged. ‘Think of something fast! A cheetah would be perfect. When you change, keep the image of a cheetah in your mind!’

  His friends edged backwards, the whale incident still pretty fresh in their minds because:

  Charlie closed his eyes. It was easy to change this time. He just remembered how he’d felt just a few moments ago by the empty safe. The electricity tore straight through him. He could feel his body changing almost immediately. And as he changed he tried to keep a picture of a cheetah in the front of his mind.

  He was growing fur. That was a good sign.

  He felt that squeezing sensation that made him feel like he was being turned inside out. Still he pictured the cheetah sprinting majestically across the savannah.

  He could tell he now had four legs. Another good sign.

  The change was finishing. He was nearly the complete animal.

  He was growing claws. Fur, four long legs, claws? Had he done it? Had he finally discovered how to choose which animal to change into?

  Charlie started running after Dylan as fast as he could. H
e felt strong and powerful as he pushed his new body to unimaginable speed …

  ‘Charlie.’

  As he ran, Charlie turned his head towards Flora. He didn’t seem to have moved very far from his friends considering he had been running as fast as he could. In fact, he seemed to have moved less than half a metre from where he had started.

  ‘Charlie,’ repeated Flora. ‘You’re a sloth, Charlie.’

  I’m a what?

  Charlie’s jaw dropped. Very slowly.

  A sloth? Of all the bloomin’ useless animals to turn into now, Charlie thought slowly. Well, never mind – this sloth is going to have to run faster than any sloth has ever run before if Dylan isn’t going to get away!

  Charlie picked up his speed, his legs pumping as hard as possible, wind whistling in his fur, the world a blur.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Flora said as she walked slowly to stand by Charlie’s side. ‘A sloth!’

  Charlie felt slightly miffed that despite his furious pace, Flora seemed able to match his speed by plodding slowly next to him.

  ‘Oh, Charlie, a sloth!’ Flora said, a tinkle of laughter in her voice.

  What’s so funny about that? thought Charlie.

  ‘Yeah, hurry up, Charlie!’ said Mohsen. ‘If you keep up that pace, we should be able to catch Dylan some time next month!’

  Wogan, Flora and Mohsen all burst out laughing.

  Charlie finally stopped running and noticed to his surprise that this hardly changed his rate of forward momentum at all. He turned his head, very slowly, to give his friends a look of disgust. How could they laugh at a time like this, when Dylan was getting away? But this only seemed to make his friends laugh even more.

  ‘Slothman is here to save the day!’ Wogan said, doubling over with laughter, Flora and Mohsen roaring next to him.

  And as Charlie watched his friends crying with laughter he had to admit there was a funny side to it. And so Charlie started chortling to himself, an odd sloth-snuffle of a chortle, which made him laugh even more. And as he laughed and laughed at the ludicrousness of needing to be the fastest animal on earth and changing into a sloth, Charlie changed back to Charlie, the normal-ish boy.

  And then, even though Dylan was long gone and Charlie’s plan was in tatters, all four friends clung to each other, tears of laughter streaming down their faces.

  ***

  Once the laughter had eventually died down, though, it was a sombre walk home. Despite their best efforts, it had, in the end, all gone wrong. The friends said a sad goodbye as Charlie turned the corner into his street and trudged back alone to a quiet house.

  SmoothMove was in his bedroom, his father had his head buried in papers, worry etched on his face, and his mother was tapping away with great concentration on her laptop, a concerned look on her face to match her husband’s. There was an air of gloom that hung in the air like a thick gas, choking life from the house,fn1 despite the Christmas carols that were playing on the radio in the empty kitchen.

  Charlie sat in his room for hours tinkering with Lego and Meccano, until his belly rumbling told him it was teatime. He flumped downstairs to ask what they were having. Without even looking up from his papers, his dad muttered at Charlie to make himself some beans on toast.

  As Charlie stirred the beans in the pan, tears sprang into his eyes. He couldn’t help it. As much as he tried to stop, the burning in his eyes and throat became worse. Fat teardrops finally dripped into the beans, and Charlie tried to choke back a sob in case his parents heard.

  And to make matters even worse Charlie could feel himself changing, that familiar fire rushing through him. Please, Charlie thought miserably. Not now. Just not now.

  Charlie’s dad’s phone suddenly started ringing on the kitchen table. Charlie swung back to the beans, hiding his tear-stained face as his dad came in to find it, desperately trying to slow his breathing down.

  ‘Mm,’ his dad said, answering the phone.

  ‘What?’ his dad continued. ‘A what? Earthquake? At Van der Gruyne Industries? Don’t be daft. It what? It WHAT? Give over. You can’t be serious.’

  His dad paused, listening, and Charlie could hear a tiny excited voice on the other end of the phone.

  ‘What? ALL of it?’ his dad continued. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  There was an animated tone growing in his father’s voice, one that Charlie hadn’t heard in a long time. He hardly dared breathe as he tried to work out what was going on.

  ‘All the computers were destroyed and they’ve lost everything? Including our code? You’re sure? You’re ABSOLUTELY certain? But … but … that means we’re saved! That’s absolutely extraordinary.’

  Charlie plucked up the courage to turn round. On his father’s face was something remarkable: a smile. A beaming smile. And that smile immediately put out the terrible fire burning inside Charlie.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Charlie’s dad said, shaking his head. ‘I just don’t believe it. Talk about divine justice! A proper act of God! Good grief. Oh yes, definitely a bottle of bubbly. See you tomorrow!’

  And with that Charlie’s dad ended the call.

  ‘Quick, everyone, get in here!’ he called in breathless excitement.

  As SmoothMove and Mum made their way in, Charlie’s dad turned on his laptop and opened the local news website.

  He pointed at the headline, spluttering, unable to get out any more words.

  FREAK EARTHQUAKE

  DESTROYS BUILDING

  ‘What?’ Charlie’s mum looked confused.

  ‘Just … look,’ replied his dad.

  His mum started reading aloud from the website.

  ‘A localized earthquake has partially destroyed the headquarters of Van der Gruyne Industries. The surrounding area seems to be untouched, but reports indicate the inside of the building has been left in ruins. A spokesman for the company has said their entire computer system has been destroyed and the company will be out of action for months. Unfortunately all the CCTV cameras were also destroyed in the incident so we have no footage to show you. Happily there are no reports of any injuries, although several chickens who seem to have been roosting in the building are being treated for shock.’

  The website included a video interview with Mr Van der Gruyne himself, his hair messy, ash all over his face. He was crying.

  ‘It’s not fair!’ Mr Van der Gruyne wailed. ‘Everything’s destroyed! It’s all gone! All my hard honest work up in smoke! I want my mummy!’

  ‘Well, I never,’ Charlie’s mum said, laughing.

  ‘And the truly extraordinary thing is,’ his dad continued, ‘because they lost all their server computers, that means they’ve also lost the code they stole from us!’

  Charlie’s mum whooped with delight and hugged his dad, giving him a huge kiss on his glowing cheek.

  Charlie gasped. ‘They lost the gold?’

  ‘Gold?’ his dad said, looking baffled. ‘What are you talking about? What gold?’

  ‘When we were out in town for SmoothMove’s birthday, you told me that Mr Van der Gruyne stole gold from us, and you just said they lost it in the earthquake!’

  ‘No, I didn’t!’ said his dad. ‘I said code! They stole code from us, Charlie, not gold! You must have misheard! Code and gold – I suppose they sound similar. But no! They stole CODE from us. The computer code McGuffin & Sons has been developing for the last five years. With that code Van der Gruyne Industries were going to steal our biggest customer and leave us bankrupt. But now their computers have been destroyed, our company is safe! We don’t have to move!’

  Charlie’s mum jumped forward and hugged her husband again.

  SmoothMove gave Charlie a beaming smile. ‘Looks like we aren’t going to have to share a room at Aunt Brenda’s after all.’ He ruffled Charlie’s hair and walked back upstairs.

  Charlie stood there, open-mouthed. It had worked.

  Somehow, some way, their plan had worked.

  There’d never been any gold, but he had accidentally s
aved McGuffin & Sons. With a little help from his friends anyway.

  OK, some people might say that a lot of it had been down to sheer blind luck. But no – not today.

  Today, Charlie really was a superhero.

  ***

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Flora, eyes wide in shock.

  ‘Nor can I,’ said Mohsen, eyes even wider in shock.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Wogan, eyes narrow with shock, because sometimes Wogan liked to do things differently.

  Basically there had been a lot of wide-eyed shock and a small amount of narrow-eyed shock since Charlie had started recounting what he had found out on Saturday evening.

  It was the last week of term. Excitement ran through the school and everybody was wearing Christmas jumpers. The friends were standing in the playground at lunch break. It was cold, and their breaths were little cloud explosions. The sky above them was deep grey, heavy with the possibility of snow. Wogan was wearing a woollen hat with a unicorn horn – an early Christmas present from Daisy. In the corner of the playground Miss Fyre and Mr Wind were standing next to each other in a very, very close huddle, presumably just trying to keep each other warm.

  ‘I can’t believe the plan actually worked,’ said Flora, still shaking her head.

  ‘Oh, Flora! Your plans always work – you should know that by now,’ said Wogan.

  ‘Gold! Code!’ said Mohsen. ‘Most people would say you were a total wally for getting that wrong, Charlie, but I think they are very similar-sounding and it is an understandable mistake.’

  ‘That’s right, Mohsen,’ said Wogan. ‘For instance, I definitely think Charlie is a total wally for getting that wrong.’

  Charlie grinned. ‘Thanks for that, Wogan!’

  ‘Hey, all’s well that ends well!’ said Flora.

  Charlie had to agree. The for-sale sign in the garden had come down that morning and an air of happiness had returned to the house just in time for Christmas. But there was one question that still bothered Charlie, and the boy who could answer it was standing by the climbing frame trying to look menacing.