‘Ahem, there’s something I’d like to ask.’
Grandpa Werewolf gave him a searching look that made Dad blush a little.
‘If I asked you to, would you … I mean, maybe you could, um …’
‘What are you getting at?’ Mum said. ‘Just tell Grandpa Werewolf what you want.’
Dad cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering if, sometime, you could, maybe …’
He fell silent when Grandpa Werewolf fixed him with a scorching gaze. Dad shrunk. It was as if Grandpa Werewolf was looking deep into his soul. As if he knew everything Dad had ever wished or hoped and all his secret desires.
‘No,’ Grandpa Werewolf growled, banging his walking stick down on the floor. ‘Not now and not ever. Understood? And never ask me something like that again!’
Dad nodded silently, but Mum was completely baffled.
‘What are you talking about?’
Grandpa Werewolf stared at Mum. He ran his tongue over his teeth.
‘Nothing important. We were talking about my grandson, that’s much more important. Where is Alfie?’
‘Sulphur Forest,’ Dad replied.
‘What?’ Grandpa Werewolf jumped up so fast he sent his chair clattering over backwards. ‘He’s in Sulphur Forest at full moon?’
Mum and Dad exchanged worried glances.
‘He’s not there by himself. His class and his teacher are there too.’
‘That’s irrelevant,’ Grandpa snapped. ‘It’s not safe for Alfie in Sulphur Forest at full moon.’
Dad scratched his head nervously. ‘Why not?’
Grandpa Werewolf grabbed his walking stick, squeezed his hat down on his head and strode out to the hall, stopping for a moment at the front door.
‘What’s wrong with Sulphur Forest?’ Mum asked.
Grandpa Werewolf looked back and said one word, ‘Leo!’
‘Who’s Leo?’ Dad asked with surprise, but the hall was already empty. A cold wind blew in through the open door.
27
Staying Behind
Mr French and the children came back from the mill covered with white flour. It had been a very enjoyable afternoon. They had all got to bake their own bread. Noura had made a small loaf shaped like a heart and given it to Alfie. Of course, Alfie had given his loaf to Noura. It looked more like a banana, but Noura liked it anyway. Alfie had done his best.
By the time they got back to the farm it was already late in the afternoon.
‘OK, kids,’ Mr French said. ‘Go and freshen up. Brush that flour off your clothes and stick your heads under a tap. Miss James has made pancakes and in one hour we’re going into the forest.’
Alfie went up to Mr French. ‘Sir, is it OK if I stay at the farm tonight?’
Mr French looked surprised. ‘What’s all this about, Alfie? Don’t you want to go into the woods for a mega-thrilling, super-scary, mysterious stroll through the gloom?’
Alfie hesitated for a moment. ‘I don’t really feel that well. It might be better if I stayed at the farmhouse. I don’t like dark forests much anyway.’
Mr French rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Alfie. Everyone’s going. Miss James too, I’m afraid. I’d rather not leave you behind by yourself. You never know.’
Just then Noura stepped forward. Alfie hadn’t noticed her standing behind him, but she had heard the whole conversation.
‘Sir, I can stay behind with Alfie. I think it would be lonely here all alone.’
Alfie looked at Noura, stunned. Alone with her at the farm at full moon? That was definitely a bad idea. If Noura stayed behind with him, she would find out that he was a werewolf and that was the last thing he wanted. If only Tim was here. He always had answers for everything, but now Alfie had to solve his own problems. He could see Mr French thinking deeply.
‘Well, that does change things,’ he said. ‘Maybe …’
Alfie’s mind raced. He had no choice. He had to go on the walk after all and then slip away from the group without being noticed when he started to change.
‘Um, suddenly I feel as right as rain!’ he said, trying to look cheerful. He did a little jig. ‘Look, fit as a fiddle.’ He stretched his arms and legs. ‘See. I’ll be perfectly fine to come along.’
Mr French was flabbergasted. He shrugged. ‘OK, great, we’ve solved that one then. But are you sure you feel all right? You were acting a bit funny earlier this afternoon too. You’re not feeling homesick, are you? You’re not thinking of sneaking off home?’
‘No,’ Alfie blurted. ‘No way. I think this trip is cool. And I really want to go on the forest walk. At least, as long as we don’t stay away too long.’
‘OK,’ said Mr French. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling better and don’t worry. We’re not going to be out walking all evening. We might even be back before it gets properly dark.’ Mr French went into the farmhouse.
Noura looked a bit glum. ‘Don’t you like being with me?’ she asked.
‘I do, I like it a lot,’ Alfie said. ‘But I didn’t want you to miss out on the forest walk because of me. That’s why I’m coming after all.’
Noura started to beam. ‘So you’re doing it for me! How sweet. I bet it’s going to be a lovely evening with a beautiful full moon.’
She didn’t notice the wrinkle appearing on Alfie’s brow.
‘You’re the nicest boy I know, Alfie Span. This afternoon you stuck up for Rose too. I thought that was really fabulous.’
Alfie hardly heard a word Noura said. He was looking up at the treetops. Some stars had already come out in the sky. Yes, he thought, a full moon.
28
A Screw Loose?
Making an enormous racket, the hunter roared up on his motorbike, with the beam of his headlight zigzagging between the trees. Like a dark veil the twilight hung over the farm.
The hunter skidded to a halt, throwing up a cloud of sand that rained down on Mr French and the children.
‘You’re ready, eh?’
Mr French brushed the sand off his clothes and shook it out of his hair. He cleared his throat, spitting out a brown glob, then said, ‘Yes, we’re ready,’ in a sandy voice. ‘We’ve just had a delicious meal. Miss James made pancakes. Surprisingly delicious pancakes, in fact. Then we all freshened up.’
Miss James blushed.
Mr French shook some more sand off the sleeve of his coat.
‘Maybe that freshening up wasn’t such a good idea,’ Miss James said. ‘I’m already covered with sand again.’
Grinning, the hunter climbed off his motorbike. ‘That’s life in the great outdoors, eh?’
He was wearing a hunting cap under his helmet and he had a hunting rifle slung over his back. He swung the rifle around and took it in his hands. ‘My friend and I are ready too.’ He stroked the gleaming, polished weapon and kissed it, winking at the children.
‘Yuck, this guy is such a creep,’ Noura said, squeezing Alfie’s arm so hard her nails pressed into his skin. Alfie smiled bravely and didn’t flinch. He was a bit worried. Not very worried, but a bit. He hoped the walk wouldn’t last too long.
Mr French coughed. ‘Um, Mr Bucket, is that really necessary?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That, um, thing. That gun. Do you really need to bring it along? We’re only going for a walk with the children.’
The hunter looked at Mr French, blinked, shook his head and gave a deep sigh. ‘Listen carefully, Mr Teacher. We’re going into the forest, eh?’
Mr French nodded.
‘And you know who lives in the forest?’
Mr French hesitated a moment. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’
The hunter scowled. ‘You know the song the three little pigs sing, eh?’
Mr French gave the hunter a despairing look. He was starting to worry that Hunter Sam hadn’t been such a good choice. The man definitely had a screw loose.
Alfie fidgeted impatiently. When were they going to get started? The longer they dawdled,
the earlier the full moon would appear.
The hunter hummed the tune of ‘Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?’ looking at Mr French and the children expectantly. ‘Hmmm-hmm-hm of the hmmm-hmm-hm—’ He flapped his hand impatiently. No one said a word.
‘Are we going now, sir?’ Alfie asked.
‘What kind of school is this?’ Hunter Sam shouted. ‘Any nincompoop knows that song. Big bad wolves live in forests.’ He held his gun up for all to see. ‘But I’m not afraid. And why not? Because my friend the gun is coming with us, you understand, eh? Any more questions?’
No one spoke and everyone stared at Hunter Sam.
Only Rose whispered quietly to herself, ‘Big bad wolf. The big bad stupid wolf. I knew it!’
Alfie was starting to get nervous. ‘Sir, are we going now or what?’
Mr French didn’t seem to have heard him. He was staring at Hunter Sam with a dazed expression. I’ve made a mistake, he thought. This guy is mad, he’s a maniac, an escaped lunatic, a headcase with a hunting licence. But I can’t send him packing now. The children are looking forward to a walk in the forest.
‘Good, we can finally get started then, eh?’ Hunter Sam asked, slinging the gun back over his shoulder. ‘It’s already dark. In the forest under the trees you can’t see a thing. You have your torches with you, hopefully, eh?’ He pulled an enormous torch out from under his belt and switched it on. The beam of light was as wide as a door.
Mr French looked at Miss James, who nodded and handed out the torches. Six tiny torches with skinny little beams of light. The children had to share them out down the line. They were going to be walking in twos. Noura got one of the torches. She was walking next to Alfie.
Behind her, Rose grumbled, ‘Why does Noura get one of those stupid torches and I don’t?’
‘Stop moaning, Rose,’ Mr French said. ‘We’re off. You should be glad you’re coming at all.’
They flicked their torches on and headed off.
29
Werewolf Itch
The long line of children followed Hunter Sam into the dark forest with Mr French at the front and Miss James at the back. The light from the torches cast ghostly shadows under the trees.
‘Stay together,’ Mr French called. ‘I don’t want to lose anyone now.’
Miss James suddenly appeared beside him, hooking her arm into his. ‘I’ll make sure you don’t lose me, Roger.’
Sniggers went up from the children who were close enough to hear.
‘She wants a kiss, sir,’ Vincent whispered.
Mr French shuddered and shook Miss James off, as if she was something slimy. ‘Miss James, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be last in line. Don’t you have any sense of responsibility? Who’s keeping an eye on the children at the back? You have to bring up the rear.’
With a red face, Miss James hurried back to the end of the line. Mr French whistled through his teeth.
‘Pffff,’ he mumbled. ‘Why does she act so silly? She’s actually quite nice and she makes fantastic pancakes, but …’
Vincent winked at him. ‘You just missed getting a big, fat kiss, sir.’
Mr French tousled Vincent’s hair. ‘Watch out she doesn’t give you a kiss, Vincent. You might turn into a big fat frog.’
Meanwhile Hunter Sam was leading the way at a smart pace, constantly humming ‘Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?’ Alfie was walking next to Noura.
‘It’s exciting, isn’t it, walking in the dark like this?’ Noura said. Alfie nodded without really thinking, keeping his eyes fixed on the dark sky. Between the treetops he could already see a few twinkling stars. And the moon was vaguely visible as well. He scratched his head. Uh-oh!
Was that an ordinary itch or was it a werewolf itch? Hunter Sam had started singing now, over and over again, telling everyone he wasn’t afraid.
Alfie scratched his neck. His cheeks had started getting itchy too. Suddenly Noura was holding the torch just in front of his face.
‘Are you enjoying yourself, Alfie? You’re so quiet.’
Quickly Alfie turned his head away, hoping Noura hadn’t looked too closely. Maybe the hair was already growing on his cheeks.
‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘But you shouldn’t shine the torch in my eyes. You’ve blinded me.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ Noura said, turning the torch away from his face.
‘It’s no big deal,’ he said.
‘You sure there’s nothing wrong?’ Noura asked in a worried voice. She studied him carefully. Suddenly she shone the torch at Alfie’s face again.
‘Alfie, just turn your head.’
All of a sudden Noura screamed at the top of her voice …
30
Beetle
‘What is it? What is it?’ Mr French rushed up.
Everyone looked at Noura and Alfie. Noura pointed at Alfie’s face. ‘Th-th-there!’ She was still pointing the torch at Alfie. The beam of light danced over his face. Alfie groaned silently with misery. I’ve had it! he thought. Everyone will see the hair on my cheeks. Now they will all know. If only Tim was here. This would never have happened.
Mr French hurried up to Alfie and stared hard at his face. ‘Oh, I see. That’s nothing to worry about, Alfie. Stay still for a second.’ He reached out with one hand. Alfie shrunk away.
‘Stop moving,’ Mr French said. ‘Otherwise I can’t grab the little monster.’
‘Monster? What monster?’ Alfie asked in a hoarse voice.
‘An enormous beetle,’ Noura shrieked. ‘It’s sitting on your forehead. A scary monster, all black and shiny, with wriggly legs. Can’t you feel it? It must have fallen off a tree.’
‘I did feel a bit of an itch,’ Alfie said. ‘But I thought …’
He put a hand up to his cheek, which was as soft and smooth as a baby’s bottom. Thank goodness. It hadn’t been the werewolf itch at all. There was nothing going on. Alfie was overcome by a deep sense of relief. What did he care if a beetle was sitting on his forehead! It could be an elephant for all he cared!
Mr French peered at Alfie’s head with an expression of disgust. ‘It really is a scary little creature. I don’t know exactly what kind of beetle it is, but it’s a whopper.’
By this time Hunter Sam had come to have a look as well. He raised his gun to his shoulder.
‘Ooh, those beetles are dangerous, eh? One bite and you are instantly paralysed. Then you turn green and your hair falls out. Shall I blow it away, eh? I can do it, no problem!’
For a moment Mr French forgot to be polite. ‘Go away, you idiot. I’m not having you shoot at one of my kids!’
Hunter Sam stalked off. ‘Have it your own way,’ he mumbled. ‘I only offered to help, eh?’
With one swipe of his hand, Mr French flicked the beetle off Alfie’s forehead. It landed on the ground in front of him and scuttled off on its wriggly legs.
Hunter Sam was getting impatient. ‘Can we carry on now? I don’t have all night.’
The procession moved on.
‘Where are we now, sir?’ Noura asked.
Mr French looked around. Trees in all directions. All looking exactly the same.
‘No idea, Noura. But Hunter Sam knows his way around.’
Alfie looked up. He could sense something. It was as if something was moving in the trees. As if something was creeping from branch to branch through the leaves. Jumping from tree to tree. Something heavy keeping pace with them above their heads.
‘When are we going back, sir?’ he asked.
‘Soon, Alfie. Just be patient.’
Suddenly the trees were further apart, giving them a clear view of the sky. Bright stars and a big, round moon lit up a clearing in the forest. All of the trees had been cut down and there were a few trunks lying on the ground. Alfie stepped back into the shade of the surrounding trees.
‘We’ll rest here,’ Hunter Sam said. ‘You can sit on those tree trunks. There’s room for everyone, eh? Then I’ll tell you a ghost story. And after that I’ll take
you back, eh?’
Mr French raised one eyebrow. ‘A ghost story? Are you sure? What kind of ghost story?’
‘A scary ghost story,’ Hunter Sam said. ‘Modern youngsters like horror stories, eh? I read that in the newspaper. So I have a fantastic horror story. It really happened. Here in this forest, eh?’
‘Is it an appropriate story?’ Mr French asked. ‘It’s actually time we were heading back. It’s past the children’s bedtime.’
‘Don’t be soft,’ Hunter Sam grinned. ‘Without me you won’t find the way back anyway. And I’m not going until I’ve told my story.’
Mr French gave a very deep sigh. He trusted Hunter Sam about as far as he could throw him. The man had no idea at all when it came to kids.
Reluctantly, Mr French walked over to one of the tree trunks and sat down. If he tells a gruesome murder story, I’ll punch him in the mouth! Mr French thought. Immediately he was shocked that he could even think such a thing. It was terrible! This Hunter Sam character made him feel simply murderous. He blushed and looked around. Fortunately he’d only thought it. Nobody had heard it. The children were already sitting on the tree trunks.
‘Oh, how nice of you to come and sit next to me,’ Miss James whispered. Astonished, Mr French looked to the side.
‘What? Oh, that was by accident. You see, I didn’t want to sit too close to Hunter Sam. I’m worried I’ll go for his throat if he starts acting weird.’
Miss James gave Mr French an odd look. ‘Oh?’ she said. ‘You really are a wild animal, Roger. I like that.’
Mr French blushed.
Hunter Sam started telling his story. ‘Long ago in this forest there lived a gruesome, spooky chewing-gum monster. It had grown from all the little bits of chewing gum that people spat out when they were walking through the forest.’
Alfie the Werewolf 2: Full Moon Page 6