Alfie the Werewolf 5: The Evil Triplets

by Paul van Loon

  ‘There,’ Mrs Chalker said, turning back to Tim and Dad after the women had gone into the house. ‘I’m dreadfully sorry, dear neighbours. I’m so ashamed of my sisters. We’re triplets, but I’m afraid they are both extremely coarse and not respectable at all.’ Mrs Chalker gave a cautious smile. Her jaw creaked softly. ‘I’m trying to turn them into good girls, but I’m not making much progress.’

  Tim and Dad gaped at the smile on Mrs Chalker’s face. It was like a miracle. The old Mrs Chalker never smiled. She was always angry, with her mouth set in a scowl that looked like it had been painted on. Now she was grinning from ear to ear. And her bones creaked with every move she made.

  That’s almost just as creepy, thought Tim.

  Dad coughed and raised his diving mask to his forehead. ‘Hmm, Mrs Chalker. What a surprise to see you here. I thought you were at the RCUPA. You never used to be so … I mean, you were rather … How can I put it?’

  For a moment, the smile on Mrs Chalker’s face tightened.

  Uh-oh, Tim thought. Dad shouldn’t have said that …

  18

  An Angel

  The smile slowly returned to Mrs Chalker’s face. ‘Yes, that is true. Feel free to say it out loud, neighbour. I was a wicked person. I was bad, bad Chalker.’

  Tears shone in the corners of Mrs Chalker’s eyes. She sniffed as her nose began to run.

  Dad glanced at Tim and shrugged. ‘Come now. You mustn’t exaggerate. It’s not as if you were so terribly evil.’

  Still blubbering, Mrs Chalker nodded. ‘I was worse! Even my own sisters were scared to death of me. When we were young I told them stories about a gruesome monster. A horrific, blood-drinking, bone-crunching cupboard monster. Even now they sometimes wake up screaming. The poor fools think the monster is still searching for them.’ Mrs Chalker shook her head sadly. ‘Yes, I was a nasty piece of work. But that’s all in the past. I’m cured, thanks to the care of the RCUPA. They let me go, the sweethearts. I stand here before you a completely different person. Nice flippers, by the way.’

  Dad blushed and bowed slightly. ‘Wow, my compliments, Mrs Chalker. That’s brilliant of you to have made such a complete recovery.’

  Mrs Chalker nodded. Crack, went her neck.

  ‘I’m very pleased about it too, neighbour. I now dedicate myself to good deeds. I have a workshop behind my house where I collect clothing for poor children from underprivileged families.’

  ‘Charity work,’ Dad said. ‘That too!’

  Mrs Chalker nodded again. ‘We make old clothes as good as new. Choker and Cheeker help me. They’re good with needles and knives and things like that. They love anything sharp.’

  Tim swallowed. ‘Really, Mrs Chalker?’

  She patted him on the head and gently pinched his cheek. A shiver ran down his spine.

  ‘It really is true, little boy. But now I have to go and make sure those two don’t set fire to the house.’ She turned around and walked back to her front door.

  Tim and Dad looked at each other in astonishment.

  ‘That was …’ Dad began.

  ‘Very strange,’ Tim continued.

  Dad nodded. ‘I don’t really know what to make of it.’

  ‘Maybe a miracle happened,’ Tim suggested.

  ‘Yes,’ Dad said. ‘That woman has changed completely. First she was a witch and now she’s an angel.’

  ‘A creaking angel,’ Tim said. ‘And a triplet. I still don’t altogether trust her …’

  19

  Blue Day

  Alfie stretched. It was morning again and he was back in his own bed. The sun shone through the curtains and he immediately remembered the previous evening. Kind Mrs Chalker, the old ladies with the rowing boat and Grandpa Werewolf.

  Leo and Noura hadn’t shown up and when morning came Alfie had gone back home and crept into bed, where he’d changed into a boy again. Without claws and without werewolf fur. Just Alfie Span with normal boy’s teeth.

  Now he had to get up. It was time for school.

  Mum and Dad were sitting at the breakfast table. Mum had curlers in her hair and Dad had dyed his hair blue.

  ‘I’m having a blue day today,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll sing a new blue song. Get it? The blues!’ Immediately he burst into song.

  ‘I woke up this morning,

  It was extremely cold,

  I felt so down and lonely,

  I felt I was so old,

  I wanted to get going,

  So I looked round for my shoes,

  But they weren’t in the cupboard,

  And then I got the blues,

  The lost shoes blues.’

  Alfie was still half asleep and just nodded. He wasn’t in the mood for music. Especially not Dad’s weird songs.

  ‘Where’s Tim?’

  ‘He’s already gone to school,’ Mum said, pouring Alfie a cup of tea. ‘We let you sleep in an extra hour. Because of last night’s full moon.’

  Dad winked. ‘I wrote a note for Mr French. Telling him you had to go to the dentist’s, Dr Drillhard-Sweetpea.’

  Alfie burst out laughing. ‘Dr Drillhard-Sweetpea? There aren’t any dentists called Drillhard-Sweetpea.’

  Dad grinned and shrugged. ‘I had to make up something. Mr French is hardly going to believe that you turned into a werewolf last night and didn’t get enough sleep. Here, eat some toast and cheese. You didn’t devour any chickens last night, I hope.’

  ‘What? No, thank goodness.’

  Suddenly Mum jumped up. ‘Oh, bother!’

  ‘What is it, dear?’ Dad asked. ‘Did you devour a chicken?’

  Mum giggled. ‘No, silly, of course not. I forgot to buy a new broom again. I need a very good one.’

  ‘Is it really necessary?’ Dad asked.

  Mum nodded. ‘Yep. I even dreamt about it. I have to buy a very good, new broom. And it’s almost time I left for my course.’ Then she walked out of the kitchen.

  Dad looked at Alfie and winked. ‘A broom that appears in your dreams? That must be a scary housewife secret.’

  Alfie laughed. ‘Probably, Dad. What kind of course is Mum doing?

  ‘Um …’ Dad racked his brains. ‘I think she said room lighting.’

  ‘Oh, nice,’ said Alfie.

  A little later Alfie left for school.

  It’s too bad Tim’s already gone, he thought, walking out of the garden. We still haven’t made up and I really want to. I—

  Surprised, he froze on the spot. A strange vehicle was approaching on the pavement. A clothes rack on wheels with small trousers, coats, jumpers and overalls swinging back and forth. The rack looked like it was full of dancing toddlers … And it was racing straight at him.

  From behind the rack he heard loud puffs and sighs.

  Alfie jumped out of the way just in time, toppling backwards on to a low hedge.

  ‘Blerk!’ With a look of disgust, he spat out a few small leaves.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, dear boy,’ a voice said. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose, you know.’

  Alfie looked up with fright. It was a voice he knew very well.

  Standing behind the racing rack was Mrs Chalker. She looked startled. Even her feather hat was crooked.

  ‘Here, let me give you a hand,’ she said, bending over towards him.

  Alfie shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to touch Mrs Chalker. Quickly he got back up on to his feet. Mrs Chalker looked at him anxiously.

  ‘Are you all right, son? It’s all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.’ She sighed and wiped the sweat from her forehead. ‘I just picked up a new rack of clothes for poor, deprived children. I’m taking it to my workshop. But I should have been more careful. You’re not angry at me, are you?’

  Alfie looked down at the ground and shook his head.

  Mrs Chalker sighed with relief. ‘Thank goodness. I’m glad to hear it. You’re such a sweet boy. I’ll get back to work then. I want to cheer up a few poor children with these clothes this very day. Bye-bye, son
, I’ll see you later, because I have a surprise for you.’ Then she rolled the rack up her own garden path. Creak-crack-creak …

  Alfie hadn’t said a word. His mouth was hanging open. He couldn’t believe what had happened. Chalker had run him down, but not on purpose, apparently. She really did seem to have changed into a kind-hearted little old lady.

  Could it be true? thought Alfie, scratching his head. What does she mean? How come she’s going to see me later? And what kind of surprise does she have for me?

  20

  The Moon

  ‘Where were you last night, Noura?’ Alfie whispered. ‘I was waiting for you in Werewolf Wood.’

  Mr French drew a yellow circle on the blackboard. ‘Look, this is the moon,’ he said. ‘Yesterday was full moon. At full moon, the moon is completely round. The moon has a big influence on the Earth.’

  Noura looked at Alfie. ‘Sorry, Alfie. There was a party at our house. There were aunts and uncles and lots of cousins. Everyone stayed until really late, so I couldn’t get out.’ She ran her fingers through her curls. ‘My parents still don’t know I’m a werewolf. I had to hide in my room. In bed, under the blankets.’

  Alfie nodded. ‘You’ll have to tell them one day.’

  ‘I know,’ Noura whispered. ‘I was bored out of my skull. It was full moon outside and I was inside lying under a blanket in my werewolf skin. Fortunately Luke called me on my mobile.’

  Alfie sat up straight. ‘Luke called you? At full moon? What for?’ He glared at Luke, who was sitting a few desks away. Luke smiled, but Alfie didn’t smile back.

  Where did Luke get the nerve to call Noura? The idiot with his smooth face and his trendy collar.

  ‘Don’t make a fuss, Alfie,’ Noura whispered. ‘He just wanted to ask me something about the homework. We got talking. About things. This and that. He only moved here recently and he still doesn’t know anyone. It was nice. We talked for an hour.’

  Alfie stared at her in disbelief. ‘An hour? How could you talk to him that long, Noura? Your voice changes too when you’re a werewolf. He must have noticed.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. He just said, "You sound a bit growly all of a sudden."‘

  Alfie groaned. ‘See! And what did you say?’

  Noura pointed to her throat. ‘Sore throat, losing my voice.’

  Alfie sighed. ‘You think he believed you? You sound normal again today. You got your voice back in a hurry. That must seem pretty suspicious.’

  Noura started to lose her patience. ‘Of course he believed me! Don’t be so jealous, Alfie.’

  ‘Jealous? I—’

  ‘Alfie and Noura, pay attention!’ Mr French said. ‘Today we’re talking about the moon. The moon has a great influence on the rise and fall of seawater. The tides, in other words. Who knows something else interesting about the moon?’

  Luke put up his finger immediately. ‘Werewolves.’

  Both Alfie and Noura spun around. Luke smiled.

  ‘What do you mean, Luke?’ Mr French asked.

  ‘What do you think I mean?’ Luke answered. ‘Some people change into werewolves at full moon. There are books about it.’

  ‘Really? How interesting,’ Mr French said. ‘What happens to them?’

  ‘Duh!’ Luke said. ‘Everyone knows that! Those dudes grow claws and a fur coat. And then they start to growl.’

  Alfie burst into a spontaneous coughing fit. Noura choked and turned bright red. Just then the door of the classroom opened. Creak-crack, creak-crack …

  ‘Good morning, dear children.’ There was someone standing in the doorway. Feather hat. Umbrella …

  21

  Party Time!

  ‘Surprise!’

  All eyes turned to the door.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Alfie groaned.

  Noura looked at him in surprise. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘It’s Mrs Chalker,’ Alfie whispered. ‘You know, the lady up the street, the one who—’

  The next instant Mrs Chalker was stepping into the classroom. Creak-crack.

  ‘She creaks like an old bed,’ Ahmed whispered, next to Luke.

  Mrs Chalker moved over to stand in front of the blackboard. ‘Good morning, children. Here I am with a nice surprise.’ She stood there with her umbrella and hat, holding a big white box in her hands. ‘Just look what I’ve got here.’

  Mr French walked over to her. He moved close and put his mouth up to her ear. Then he said clearly and very loudly, ‘MADAM, YOU’RE AT THE WRONG PLACE. THIS ISN’T THE OLD PEOPLE’S HOME, IT’S A PRIMARY SCHOOL.’

  Mrs Chalker giggled. ‘Relax, teacher-boy. I may creak, but I’m not deaf. I’m here with good news.’ She looked around the class cheerfully and acted as if Mr French wasn’t even there. Alfie tried to hide behind his hands.

  ‘Hello, dear boy,’ Mrs Chalker said. ‘What a delightful class you have. All little darlings.’

  Everyone looked at Alfie.

  ‘Hey, Alfie, is that your grandma?’ Luke grinned.

  Alfie blushed bright red and slipped down as far as he could behind his desk. Mrs Chalker tapped the blackboard with her umbrella.

  ‘Boys and girls, I have an important question. Whose birthday is it today?’

  The children looked at each other.

  ‘No one’s,’ Ahmed shouted. ‘No parties in the class today.’

  Then someone stuck up his finger. Luke.

  ‘Mine,’ he said. ‘It’s my birthday today.’

  Mr French looked at Luke with surprise. ‘Really, Luke? I didn’t even know. How strange.’

  Mrs Chalker smiled. ‘See? How fortunate that I’ve come here today. You do have something to celebrate.’

  Ahmed threw his hands up. ‘Hooray, party time!’

  Everyone cheered. Everyone except Alfie.

  ‘Happy birthday, Luke,’ Noura whispered.

  Alfie scowled. ‘Humph. His birthday. So what? Everyone has a birthday. As if there’s anything special about that. If it’s even true …’

  Mrs Chalker walked over to Luke, put the box down on his desk carefully and flapped open the lid. ‘Look what I have here.’

  Luke looked in the box. ‘Strawberry cake,’ he called out. ‘An enormous strawberry cake with a thick layer of whipped cream.’

  Mrs Chalker smiled. ‘A delicious strawberry cake for the whole class. Thanks to you, little boy.’

  Alfie saw her wink at Luke. What’s she doing that for? he wondered.

  ‘It’s your birthday, so you get to say,’ Mrs Chalker said.

  Luke looked up at her with a frown. ‘Say what?’

  Mrs Chalker chuckled secretively. ‘Who you’d like to give the first piece of cake to.’

  Luke didn’t hesitate, but pointed straight at Noura. ‘Her!’

  22

  Lucky Girl

  All heads turned towards Noura, who blushed. Alfie felt a terrible urge to bite Luke as hard as he could. Too bad I’m not a werewolf in the daytime, he thought.

  ‘Ah,’ Mrs Chalker said. ‘So that girl is the lucky one. Lovely. Just lovely.’

  For a second Alfie thought he saw her wink at Luke again. He even thought Luke was winking back. You see, he thought, they’re in it together. Chalker is helping Luke take Noura away from me. Then he shook his head. Stop it, stop it, I’m thinking crazy things.

  Mrs Chalker walked over with the cake box and studied Noura carefully. ‘So, little girl, you’re the one! What’s your name?’

  What’s she getting at? thought Alfie.

  ‘Noura,’ answered Noura.

  ‘Noura, you’re in luck. If you ask me, the birthday boy has his eye on you.’

  Noura turned even redder than the strawberries. Under his breath, Alfie let out a growl of misery. Mrs Chalker pulled a big knife out from under her coat.

  ‘Ahhhh,’ the children gasped in fright.

  Mrs Chalker sniggered and looked around the class, then cut a big piece of cake and put it down in front of Noura on a paper plate.

  ‘See, dear,
I’ve thought of everything.’

  Noura smiled shyly.

  ‘Just a moment,’ Mrs Chalker said. ‘You mustn’t eat cake with your fingers. That’s why I’ve brought pretty little silver cake forks for everyone. Very stylish. Here, the first one is for you.’ She held the fork out to Noura.

  Noura looked at it. Her face turned white and she didn’t take the fork.

  Alfie saw her hands shaking and immediately understood what was going on. Noura can’t bear silver, he thought. Just like me, because she’s a werewolf too. We werewolves are allergic to silver. It can even be fatal.

  ‘Come now, Noura,’ Mrs Chalker said in a friendly voice. ‘Don’t be shy. Take a bite. It’s scrumptious strawberry cake.’ She speared a piece with the fork. ‘Here, look how yummy it is. Come on, open wide … Take a bite!’

  ‘Bite, bite, bite!’ chanted the class.

  Slowly Mrs Chalker brought the fork closer to Noura’s mouth. Noura moved her head back. She looked pale. There were drops of sweat on her forehead. She had even gone a bit cross-eyed. She looked like she was about to faint.

  ‘Noura, are you OK?’ Mr French asked.

  Alfie leapt up.

  ‘Stop!’ he shouted, pointing at the cake fork. ‘Please put that thing away, Mrs Chalker. Noura’s allergic.’

  Mrs Chalker looked at him in surprise.

  ‘Oh, really? Is she? What’s this sweet little girl allergic to?’

  Alfie swallowed.

  Mrs Chalker winked and bent over him. ‘I know what you’re allergic to, dear boy,’ she whispered. ‘Silver, of course. Don’t you worry about that. That’s our little secret. But what’s the story with this girl?’