Alfie the Werewolf 2: Full Moon

by Paul van Loon

  Miss James clapped her hands. She wasn’t feeling miserable any more. ‘That’s right, boys and girls. We’re here to have a fun, sociable school trip. And we’re not going to let a soup thief ruin it for us. He ran off and he’s not going to bother us any more. We’ll just forget all about him. I’ve made a stack of sandwiches. Is anyone hungry?’

  All of the kids gave big nods.

  ‘Inside then.’

  The children followed Miss James into the farmhouse. Alfie paused on the doorstep, looking back at the forest for a moment.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Noura asked.

  Alfie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just thought …’ He shook his head. ‘No, nothing. Forget it.’

  ‘Hey, are you coming or not?’ Mr French called. ‘You must be famished after all that work. We’ll eat now and then we’re going to build a fabulous campfire.’

  Alfie and Noura hurried into the farmhouse.

  Outside, the undergrowth moved. For a moment the branches parted. Two gleaming eyes peered out from between the leaves. A soft panting noise could be heard.

  12

  The Campfire

  ‘OK, guys. Throw some more branches on,’ Mr French said, walking around the campfire and nodding approvingly. Everything was as it should be: the children’s stomachs were full, the beds had been made and nobody was thinking about the soup thief any more. The children were sitting around the campfire, which was burning nicely. They had buckets of water ready for emergencies. The flames were leaping up and crackling sparks were shooting up into the sky.

  ‘Campfires are nice and warm, aren’t they?’ Noura whispered. ‘And cosy too. Don’t you think?’

  Alfie nodded and looked up at the sky. It was cloudy. The sun had set and it was slowly growing darker. There wasn’t a star to be seen. The children were sitting on logs they had dragged up themselves. The red glow shone on their faces. Miss James handed out cups of hot cocoa, then sat down too. Mr French brought out a big fat book to read.

  ‘Time for a nice horror story!’

  Miss James cooed. ‘Ooh, exciting! Will you come and sit next to me, Roger?’

  Mr French acted like he hadn’t heard her. ‘This book is called The Horror Bus. It’s full of scary stories.’ He grinned and looked at the children’s faces with his eyes shining red from the fire.

  ‘Time for a story about …’ He held the book in front of his face and peered over the top of it. ‘A werewolf!’

  Alfie held his breath. Noura moved a bit closer. Alfie felt her trembling. ‘What is it?’ he whispered.

  ‘Werewolves are really scary,’ Noura said quietly. ‘I saw a film about a werewolf once. Afterwards I couldn’t sleep for three nights.’

  Alfie swallowed audibly. ‘Um, maybe only some werewolves are scary. Maybe there are friendly werewolves too. Don’t you think?’

  Noura burst out laughing. ‘Friendly werewolves? That’s a bit like friendly sharks. They bite your leg off with a smile on their face.’

  Alfie chuckled but looked upset.

  ‘Alfie, Noura, are you paying attention?’

  Then Mr French started to read and everyone was as quiet as a mouse. The story was about a werewolf that lived in a tower block. Two boys, Peter and Barry, went looking for the werewolf.

  Mr French was good at reading out loud. Sometimes he kept his voice quiet, sometimes he cranked up the volume. Noura listened without even blinking and slid closer and closer to Alfie. The story got more and more exciting. Mr French stood up and walked around the circle while he read:

  ‘Patience,’ panted Peter. ‘It could happen any minute now, because the full moon has broken through the clouds.

  It is the hour of the werewolf.’

  Their teacher’s voice was a whisper and in the glow of the flames his face looked ghostly. For a moment he was silent, staring at their faces. It was deathly quiet. The children waited tensely.

  Even Rose had forgotten that she thought campfires and horror stories were stupid.

  Alfie looked up. The sky was still covered with clouds. There were no stars and no moon in sight. Mr French read on. Alfie looked sideways at Noura, who had her hands over her mouth.

  ‘Luckily it’s not a full moon,’ Alfie whispered. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of.’

  In the same instant the clouds parted, just like that. They drifted apart, revealing hundreds of stars and the moon – a beautiful full moon.

  ‘Pay attention,’ Mr French said. ‘Now it gets really exciting.’

  13

  It Starts with an Itch

  Alfie had stopped listening to Mr French’s voice. He was staring at the moon. The full moon. How could that be? Had Tim made a mistake? Or was there something wrong with the week planner? Alfie looked around cautiously. The children were listening tensely to Mr French. Noura was sitting very close to him. She was listening to the story with her mouth open and seemed to find it very exciting.

  Alfie looked back up at the moon. Maybe nothing will happen, he thought. Maybe I won’t change tonight. He scratched his hand. It was itchy. He knew that feeling. It was no ordinary itch, it was a werewolf itch. He looked down and was so shocked he almost screamed. His hand was already covered with hair. White hair.

  Quickly he stuck his hand between his legs. But his other hand started to itch straightaway as well. Suddenly it too was covered with hair. His fingernails gleamed in the moonlight. They were long and getting longer, slowly changing into claws. He looked around in a panic. What now? He was in the middle of changing, but no one had noticed anything yet. All eyes were on Mr French. He was an extremely exciting reader. That was lucky, because Alfie could feel his ears gradually stretching. His face was itchy too. He felt it on his cheeks. His whole body began to itch. No amount of scratching could stop the werewolf itch. He felt his tail growing out of him.

  I have to get away from here! Alfie thought. I have to hide before someone sees me. Just then Noura grabbed his arm and squeezed it, but she didn’t look at him. All her attention was on Mr French.

  One of the boys in the story had just discovered that the other boy was the werewolf. A sigh passed through the children.

  ‘No!’ whispered Rose.

  Carefully Alfie slipped his arm out of Noura’s grip.

  ‘Exciting, isn’t it?’ whispered Noura.

  Alfie tried to say something, but the only noise that came up out of his throat was a soft growl. ‘Wrow.’

  He covered his mouth with his paws and immediately realized that his nose had changed into a muzzle. Noura still hadn’t noticed. Alfie knew one thing. He had to get out of there as fast as he could. Very cautiously he slid backwards. The campfire crackled and sparks fanned up in the night sky. Towards the full moon.

  Mr French was using lots of gestures to explain how horrific the werewolf in the story was. Alfie slid back out of the circle. Now he was looking at the other children’s backs. He felt the bushes behind him.

  ‘And then Peter sees the werewolf,’ Mr French read. A soft gasp of horror passed through the circle.

  ‘Stupid!’ muttered Rose. ‘Why doesn’t he run away?’

  Now! thought Alfie, rolling backwards and disappearing into the undergrowth.

  14

  A Howling Wolf

  Alfie crawled out on the other side of the bushes. In the silence of the woods he could clearly hear Mr French’s voice and through the leaves he could see the children sitting in a circle.

  He saw Noura too. Suddenly he felt very alone. Why could the others snuggle around the campfire together and not me? he thought.

  ‘Because at the moment you’re a werewolf, you twerp,’ said a voice inside his head. ‘They’d probably be scared to death if they saw you. That wouldn’t be much fun, would it?’

  Suddenly Alfie thought of the first time he had changed into a werewolf. It had happened the night he turned seven. He almost scared himself to death when he saw his reflection in the window. Fortunately he’d met his grandfather. Grandpa was a wer
ewolf too. He’d been a werewolf his whole life and Grandpa was more than happy with that.

  ‘You get used to it,’ he’d told Alfie.

  And it was true. Alfie was gradually getting used to it.

  But now I really would rather be sitting in front of the campfire, he thought.

  ‘Stop dawdling and get going!’ the voice said. ‘Imagine Noura seeing you like this, with all that hair and those teeth. What do you think would happen then?’

  I’ve got to get away from here! thought Alfie. Before they discover that I’m gone and start looking for me. If only Tim was here!

  He growled softly, turned around and shot off under the dark trees. He didn’t know where he was going. He just ran. High above the treetops the full moon floated along behind him.

  His shoes pinched and he could hardly breathe in his clothes. His shirt was starting to tear. Quickly he pulled off his shoes and his coat, but he still felt like he was suffocating, so he took off the rest of his clothes. It was an enormous relief. Finally Alfie felt free. Only his glasses were still on his nose.

  He dropped so that he was standing on all fours and looked up at the moon. His mouth opened. All by itself, a long extended howl came up out of his throat. Alfie the Werewolf howled at the full moon.

  At the campfire Mr French looked up in fright. He’d just finished the story. He sat down next to Miss James and clapped the book shut.

  ‘What was that noise?’ asked Miss James, moving closer to Mr French.

  ‘I … I don’t know.’

  Mr French looked around and saw the children’s frightened faces.

  ‘It was a wolf,’ Rose shouted. ‘See, I told you so. It’s all going to go wrong, of course. You’ll see. That Mr Bucket warned us about wolves. Soon we’ll be surrounded by a whole club of them.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Mr French said. ‘There is no such thing as a club for wolves. And Mr Bucket was just telling stories. He was trying to wind you up. That was a stray dog, that’s all.’

  He started to laugh. ‘My horror story has made quite an impression on you. I bet that you were frightened half to death. You’re probably all thinking that was a werewolf you just heard. But of course, we all know that werewolves don’t exist. Don’t we?’

  There were a few sniggers. The boys nudged each other. Of course. Everyone knew that werewolves were made up.

  Astonished, Noura looked at the empty spot next to her. Where was Alfie?

  Just then another terrifying howl filled the air. Mr French jumped.

  ‘Miss James, I think it’s time we got back to the farm. It’s already late and the fire is almost out.’

  ‘Call me Jenny, silly,’ Miss James whispered. She moved to lean against him, but Mr French stepped away at the same time and she fell over. Slightly embarrassed, she scrambled back up and brushed the sand off her clothes. Mr French didn’t seem to have noticed a thing. He started giving instructions.

  ‘Vincent, Rahid, Larissa, your turn. You know where the buckets are.’

  They jumped up and used the buckets of water to douse the smouldering remains of the campfire. Mr French clapped his hands.

  ‘Come on, kids, don’t dawdle, please. It’s been a long day. You have to get to bed.’

  As they left, he looked over his shoulder at the forest. Behind him he heard the sound of snapping twigs. As if something was shuffling through the undergrowth. He looked ahead quickly. A horror story like that even gives me scary thoughts, he reflected.

  Just to be on the safe side he went to walk next to Miss James. She smiled at him.

  ‘So, Roger,’ she whispered. ‘We’re having a cosy walk together after all, aren’t we?’

  Mr French burst into a coughing fit and quickly strode ahead. Noura wondered again where Alfie was. She couldn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’d gone back early to go to the toilet or something, she thought.

  Alfie was running through the forest and feeling as free as a real wild wolf. He did a cheerful pee on a big tree. Then he ran on.

  Suddenly he remembered his classmates and Noura. I mustn’t go too far, he thought. I have to be back in my bed before morning. He stopped with a jerk. What if Mr French checks the beds? He had to go back. Right this minute. He had to try to sneak into bed unseen and then hide under the blankets. Tomorrow morning I’ll just be Alfie again, he thought. That won’t be a problem. He had to go back.

  Which way was it again? He stuck his nose up in the air and sniffed. He could smell the extinguished campfire very clearly. He just had to follow that smell. Easy peasy.

  Suddenly it was as if a storm had struck. There was something in the undergrowth. Bushes swished back and forth, branches snapped, shadows moved. Two pointy grey ears appeared. A broad grey wolf’s head popped up from the bushes right in front of Alfie’s eyes.

  ‘Alfie!’ the big wolf growled. At least, that was what it seemed to growl.

  15

  Surprise Visitor

  Alfie saw a big wolf stepping out of the bushes and was frozen to the spot with fright. Who is this wolf? he thought. And how does it know my name?

  Then he saw something else that was strange. The big wolf was wearing a dressing gown with little wolves all over it. The wolf raised one of its paws. Alfie stared at it and saw that it wasn’t a paw at all. It was a grey woollen glove.

  And there were grey wolf slippers on the wolf’s feet.

  ‘Alfie,’ the wolf said again in a slightly muffled voice. Then it grabbed its own ears and pulled the head off its body. Alfie’s mouth dropped open and his tongue rolled out.

  ‘Dad!’ he growled.

  Standing in front of him was Tim’s father. He was holding a wolf mask in his hands, a wolf mask that looked just like the real thing. He was sweaty, with a red face and wet hair.

  ‘Phew, it’s really stuffy under one of those heads. I don’t know how you stand it.’

  Alfie could still hardly believe his eyes. ‘Wrow, Dad! What are you doing here?’

  Tim’s father wiped the sweat off his brow. ‘Well, Alfie, it’s like this. I’m here to warn you.’

  ‘To warn me? Wrow, what about, Dad?’

  Dad pointed up at the moon. ‘Tim forgot to tear the page off the week planner. I’m here to warn you that there’s a full moon tonight. And that you’ll turn into a werewolf this evening.’

  ‘OK,’ Alfie growled.

  Dad looked at him for a moment without speaking. ‘But, um, you’ve already figured that out, of course.’

  Alfie looked Dad over once more from head to toe, from his sweaty face to his wolf slippers. ‘Why are you dressed up all silly like that?’

  ‘Silly?’

  ‘Well, with the slippers and the wolf mask and that.’

  Dad nodded. ‘Oh, that. Well, you see, I didn’t want to be too conspicuous in this forest. That’s why I couldn’t come dressed as an elephant. Because there aren’t any elephants around here. So I thought, why not a wolf? And then I drove straight to the fancy-dress shop. As a wolf I could come to warn you without attracting any attention. I didn’t want the other kids to see me. I thought, maybe they’d think you were a wimp, that you can’t get by without us. That’s why I came in disguise, see?’

  Alfie gazed at Dad. It was clear that he meant every word. Alfie felt a lump in his throat. Tim’s parents were sweet and it was very obvious that they loved him. They did crazy things like this for him.

  ‘Thanks,’ he growled.

  Tim’s father grinned. ‘Besides, I love dressing up anyway. You know that. I love being different.’ He looked at Alfie for a moment. ‘So, what do you think? Do you want to come home with me? You can. I’ll phone and say you were taken ill all of a sudden.’

  Alfie thought about it for a long time. If he went home now, his problems would be solved. No one would discover his secret and he’d be safe. But what would Noura think? He shook his head.

  ‘I’m not coming, Dad. I can’t keep running away my whole life. I am who I am. I’ll manage.’

  ‘You
sure?’ Tim’s father asked.

  ‘Wrow, definitely! Tomorrow evening we’re going for a nice walk in the woods. With a hunter as a guide. He knows his way around here really well.’

  ‘A hunter? But what if you turn into a werewolf again?’

  Alfie shrugged. ‘Then, um, I’ll hide. But maybe it won’t happen. Maybe the moon won’t come out. Then I won’t feel any moonlight and I might not change.’

  Dad laid a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. ‘You sure, son?’

  Alfie hesitated for a moment, then gave a very firm nod.

  ‘Well, I guess you’ll be all right then.’ Dad scratched Alfie on the head, between his ears. ‘I’m proud of you, Alfie. But Mum and Tim are very anxious to hear how you’re doing, so I’ll hurry off home now.’ He wrapped his arms around Alfie and gave him a hug. They stood there for a moment looking at each other without Dad showing any sign of wanting to leave.

  ‘Um, Dad, I have to hurry back to the farm,’ Alfie growled.

  ‘Oh, of course, son. I’ll go back to the car then.’ Dad pointed to a spot somewhere on the other side of the bushes. ‘It’s over there on the edge of the forest somewhere. A fair way away from your farm. No one saw me. So I’ll leave again unseen now. You’ll be careful?’

  Alfie nodded.

  ‘I’m off then,’ said Dad, but he still showed no sign of moving.

  ‘Wrow, go on, Dad. You really don’t need to worry. I’ll manage.’

  ‘OK, I’m off then. Bye, son. See you soon. The day after tomorrow.’

  Finally Dad shuffled away from Alfie, pulling the wolf mask back down over his head. ‘You sure you don’t want to come with me?’

  Alfie held up one paw and waved. ‘Bye, Dad.’

  Tim’s father nodded, shrugged and disappeared between the bushes. Now and then Alfie saw his ears poking up over the leaves. Then he was gone. Alfie was alone again under the full moon.