‘D’you think someone would have a spare recycling bin they’re not using?’ Jackson interrupted, still full of plans for home improvements.
‘And what will you say?’ I laughed. ‘‘‘Excuse me, but we need your bin for this weird talking creature we’ve got hidden away?”’
‘’Course not!’ Jackson replied. ‘I’m not that stupid! I’d never let anything happen to … uh-oh! Where’s Thing gone?’
In the blink of a (human) eye, Thing had scuttled off through the undergrowth.
‘Oh no! It really has gone to find where its home used to be!’ I blurted out.
‘Quick, Ruby!’ said Jackson, scrabbling to his feet. ‘We’ve got to stop it – it’ll get frightened! And it’ll get seen by someone in one of the new houses!’
Worse than that, Thing might get cross when it got to where its home used to be, and found an ugly big building(ing) instead.
And if Thing got cross, it might do some magic.
And if Thing did some magic, we might really be in trouble.
I mean, really, really, really, really, really be in trouble…
Way back at the beginning of my story, I promised to tell you about Thing and Jackson and the jelly babies.
Oh, and the magic too.
So that’s everything – right?
Not quite.
We’re missing a little something: a curse.
Do you want to know about that? Are you sure?
’Cause it’s coming (along with some more magic!) and it nearly made me sick …
‘Where is it?’ said Jackson urgently, as we burst out of the trees and shrubs and on to Willow Avenue.
‘You mean Thing? Or what used to be the middle of Muir Wood?’ I asked, starting to run as fast as my flip-flops would let me.
(Which is not very fast, actually. If you’ve never tried it, don’t – it’s like trying to jog with pitta bread taped to your feet.)
‘Both!’ yelped Jackson.
‘It’s hard to tell,’ I replied, fretting about the way the new roads twisted and turned. They were taking us two steps forward and one step back from where we needed to be.
‘Thing will have gone in a straight line, through people’s gardens, won’t it?’ Jackson panted alongside me.
I didn’t answer, because I was too busy concentrating on where we were going.
Plus I didn’t want to stop and think about Thing being terrorised by fearsome dogs or startled gardeners with big, worrisome spades in their hands …
As we hurried towards a junction, I heard a noise that made my blood turn to ice.
‘WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!’
I froze on the spot.
Jackson clunked into the back of me.
‘What was that?’ Jackson asked breathlessly.
I was pretty sure it was my worst nightmare.
Someone had spotted Thing and screamed.
Thing was probably scared stupid, and just about to scream too.
Then there’d be lots more screaming, and people rushing out of their houses to see what the screaming was about.
Any minute now there’d be sirens and police and scientists and people with stun guns and big nets swarming all over the place and it would be a total disaster!!
‘Quick!’ I yelped, grabbing hold of Jackson by the T-shirt and pulling him after me.
‘WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!’
We hurtled a few metres forward and saw …
A mum pushing a buggy at top speed out of a cul-de-sac.
The mum looked hassled and grumpy.
The little boy in the buggy was squiggling round – red-faced – and pointing back towards the semi-circle of identical houses behind him.
‘MUMMMMEEEEE! STOP!!! WANNA CUDDLE THE NICE PUSSY!!!!!’ he roared, bucking against the straps that held him in.
‘Oscar!’ the mum snapped. ‘I said no! We’re late for your junior gym class!’
‘BUT I WANNA CUDDLE THE NICE PUSSY!!!!’
‘I said no, Oscar!’ the mum snapped again, stomping past me and Jackson as if we were invisible. ‘Anyway, we don’t know that cat and it might scratch you or have fleas or something nasty!’
‘BUT THE NICE PUSSYYYYYYYY!!!’ wailed Oscar, his whole body twisted round, his arms outstretched, his mum ignoring him and hurtling off down the road and round the corner.
‘Hey, Ruby; check out the pussy!’ said Jackson.
‘Huh?’ I muttered, my ears still ringing with distant ‘WAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!’s.
‘The pussy cat the kid wanted to cuddle – it’s over on the doormat of No. 72!’
Well, I guess that from a distance, a passerby (or mum and whiny toddler) might think the creature was a small, fuzzy ginger cat, waiting patiently for its owner to come home and give it its tea.
Unless they looked a little closer and saw the squirrelly ears and the stumpy wings …
‘Thing!’ I called out, and flip-flapped mighty fast towards our little buddy, with Jackson sprinting past me. (Trainers beat flip-flops every time.)
But Thing didn’t answer – it was staring hard at the front door of No. 72.
I glanced around, checking no one else was about. Luckily, the pavements were empty, the driveways had no cars parked in them and the windows of the houses were all shut tight.
But people would be drifting back from school and work soon, surely.
We had to get Thing safely out of sight before anyone else appeared!
‘What are you doing?’ gasped Jackson, reaching Thing before me and flopping down beside it.
Thing still didn’t say a purry word.
‘Is this where your old home was?’ I asked it, coming to a stop and bending over to get my breath back.
As I spoke, I noticed something I wished I hadn’t.
Thing was trembling.
Its stumpy wings were vibrating ever-so-slightly.
‘Jackson!’ I said in alarm. ‘It’s feeling ARRGHH! Quick – have you got a jelly baby to distract it?’
Jackson began quickly rifling in his pockets, but it was too late.
The seriously spectacular weirdness had started …
Flickers of light danced around the whole of the front of the house.
Sparkles cartwheeled around the windows and the door.
And then just as soon as the amazing mini fireworks show started, it stopped.
‘Thing – what did you do?!?’ I asked all a-tremble myself.
‘I do a curse!’ Thing purred darkly, wobbling round to face me and Jackson. ‘I send a giant cloud of wasps to live in this house, where my house used to be!’
A giant cloud of wasps? I fretted to myself. That sounds nasty!!
‘Um …’ mumbled Jackson.
He was pointing at something.
The letter box – it was creaking open slowly, as if it was being pushed from the inside.
EEK!
Were there so many wasps inside that they were squeezing their way out?!?
PLOP!
PLOP! PLOP! PLOP!
Jelly babies.
Instead of spiky, swarmy wasps, a whole bunch of brightly coloured jelly babies drop-drop-dropped on to the doormat.
‘Thing … did your magic go a little bit wrong, like last time?’ I asked, taking a couple of steps backwards and looking up at the windows.
Uh-oh.
‘Peh,’ said Thing, staring down at the yellow jelly baby at its feet.
‘Wow!!’ said Jackson, only just spotting what I had.
Squashed against the glass of every window in the house were multicoloured jelly babies.
There had to be hundreds; no, thousands; no, millions of jelly babies in there!
‘The people who own this place are going to go nuts if they see this!’ I garbled. ‘They’ll phone the police and the newspapers and heaps of people will come down to see and Thing might get discovered and WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!’
Before Jackson had a chance to answer, a terrible sound made me go rigid.
PLINKY-PLINK!
A-PLINKY-PLINK! PLINK-PLINK-PLINK-PLINK!!
‘Oh, no … please don’t let the driver see us!’ I murmured, watching as an ice-cream van cruised up to the junction, some nursery rhyme trilling loudly from a speaker.
‘Of course he’ll see us! It’s like ice-cream van drivers have a special radar to spot kids!’
Jackson was right; the van had now turned into the cul-de-sac, and was gliding straight towards us.
Help …
‘Wait; Dad gave me my pocket money this morning,’ said Jackson, jumping to his feet and jangling some coins in his pocket. ‘I’ll go and head him off.’
With that, Jackson bolted down the drive, along the pavement and made the van pull up outside No. 64.
‘Quick, Thing – act like a cat!’ I ordered, as I crouched in front of the door, so that the jelly babies dropping from the letter box were hidden from view. (If the ice-cream man spotted the ones in the windows, he might think they were just some crazy style of curtains. Hopefully.)
‘What is scat?’ asked Thing, rubbing his paws together anxiously.
‘Like … like Christine! You know; the old furry animal in my bedroom?’ I explained urgently.
‘Oh! Yes!’ said Thing, immediately curling into a ball and closing its eyes.
As I stroked the ‘cat’ with a shaking hand, I saw Jackson being handed a large cone.
Then with a big fake smile, he waved as the ice-cream man got back behind the wheel and set off in search of more kid customers.
‘It’s OK – the van is going now,’ I whispered to Thing, who stayed curled up. Curled up and snoring.
Good grief; it had actually fallen asleep!
‘Thing! Wake up!’ I urged, as Jackson hurried back towards us.
Thing dozily blinked its big eyes and gave a furry stretch, along with a mewling sort of yawn. It would have looked ever so cute, if there wasn’t a complete emergency going on right behind us.
‘This has given me an idea!’ said Jackson, taking a lick of his ice-cream cone before chucking it into the nearest bush.
For a second, I felt relieved – till I remembered this was Jackson talking, and his idea was probably going to be dumb.
It was.
Get this …
Cupping his hands under the letter box, Jackson caught a bundle of tumbling jelly babies – then stuffed them in his mouth.
‘Come on, both of you!’ he mumbled and chewed. ‘Eat!!’
Yes, it was dumb, but because I couldn’t think of anything better I did as I was told. (Thing began nervously nibbling too, glancing back and forth, from me to Jackson.)
But by my thirtieth jelly baby, I had figured out a new plan – which was useful, because I was starting to feel quite sick.
‘Listen, Thing!’ I began. ‘You have GOT to magic this away!’
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry – can’t magic the magic away, Rubby!’ Thing muttered, frantically rubbing its paws together. ‘I scared now …’
It felt scared?! Scared was no use. Thing had to feel ARRGHH!, but how was that going to happen?!?
Then I looked at Jackson, who gave me a big baboon grin back with his cheeks jam-packed full of jelly babies.
‘Jackson! Be annoying! NOW!!’ I ordered him, knowing – out of all the annoying boys I’d ever met – that Jackson could do it.
‘Huh?’ he mumbled dopily.
Quickly, I clamped my hands over Thing’s furry ears so it couldn’t hear. ‘We’ve got to make it cross! If it doesn’t feel ARRGHH!, then we don’t stand a chance!’
‘Yeah, but how?’ asked Jackson, with a massive, sugary gulp.
How annoying that Jackson didn’t seem to know how to be annoying!
‘Oh, for goodness sake, act like a mean squirrel!’ I hissed at him.
Thing was scrambling at my hands, trying to set its ears free.
So I let go, hoping Jackson wouldn’t let us all down.
‘Er … ha ha ha!’ he started lamely.
Thing didn’t look so scared suddenly; just a little bit confused.
‘Just look at yourself!’ Jackson tried again. ‘You’ve got those funny little wings – bet you can’t even fly! Ha ha ha!!’
Thing still seemed confused, but started rocking from side to side.
‘Hey, I know a good name for you!’ said Jackson, getting going at last. ‘“Big-nose-no-tail”! Yeah, that’s good!’
‘Peh!’ muttered Thing, clenching its tiny paws.
‘Big-nose-no-tail! Big-nose-no-tail!’ Jackson sing-songed.
As he carried on, I saw Thing start to tremble – great! But I needed it to concentrate and use all that ARRGHH! to change the spell on the house, not to turn Jackson into a cucumber or a wardrobe or something.
Scooping it up, I held Thing in front of the jellified living room window and said, ‘Now—’
(The sound of distant crackles were already in the air.)
‘—take the curse back quick—’
(The flickers of light began to dance.)
‘—and reverse the magic—’
‘—please!!’
(Sparkles cartwheeled all around us.)
As soon as the mini fireworks show started, it stopped.
And instead of a house packed with jelly babies, a peaceful empty building stood in front of us.
Well … not quite.
‘Butterflies?!?’ gasped Jackson, as millions of dainty coloured wings fluttered around inside.
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry!’ muttered Thing, twisting round to look up at me with its bushbaby eyes.
It was OK.
In that moment, I realised that same as Jackson was a friend who couldn’t help being annoying, Thing had magical powers that happened to be rubbish …
But we were still left with a pretty big problem.
‘How do we get these out?’ I sighed, nodding at the butterflies, flittering around the light fittings and sofas.
‘Ta na!’ grinned Jackson, flipping open the letter box.
And sure enough, a butterfly quivered out.
Then another.
And another.
And a whole flittery-flutter of them.
And soon – well, fifteen minutes later, with both me and Jackson taking turns – they were all gone, dancing and prancing around the ugly Forest View Estate, making it an altogether prettier place to be.
‘Right, Jackson; you, me and Thing need to go home,’ I said, as the final pair of wings wibbled off in the wind. (And not a second too soon – a car was just turning into the cul-de-sac.)
‘Yes, please,’ purred Thing, from the safety of my hoodie top.
‘And no more magic,’ I warned it, folding my arms gently across my chest, to hide the Thing-shaped lump there.
‘No, thank you,’ it purred back, its hand coming up towards my face, offering me a half-chewed jelly baby only slightly covered in ginger hairs.
How sweet.
Not to mention yucky …
What happened next?
(Or since it’s the last chapter, should that be what happened last?)
Well, the day after the curse, me and Jackson both arrived at the trees after school with presents.
I got there first, with a handful of white, fat mushrooms snaffled from the vegetable compartment of our fridge.
‘Ah!! So big round mushrooms, Rubby!’ gasped Thing. ‘Where they been growed so big?’
‘Er … the supermarket,’ I answered, since I didn’t have the packet to hand, to read which country they were from.
‘Supermarket must be nice wood. No big round mushrooms like this in my old wood. You take me to Supermarket Wood sometime?’
Oh, dear, I could feel my head go twisty with explanations again.
Luckily, Jackson showed up right about then.
‘Hi, guys!!’ he said, swinging his legs over his tall garden fence and landing – CRONK – exactly on top of Thing’s squint stick-and-bag home. The big donut.
‘EEK!’ squeaked Thing in shock.
‘Jackson!
Look what you’ve done!’ I moaned.
‘Oops! But it’s OK! Honest!’ Jackson babbled, pulling something out of a big bag in his hand. ‘See what I’ve got!’
‘It’ was a large plastic toy van.
‘So?’ I muttered, wondering what Jackson was on about.
‘So … it’s a Scooby-Doo Mystery Machine!’ Jackson explained, looking stunned that I hadn’t recognised it straightaway. ‘This used to be my favourite toy ever!’
‘And what – you want us all to play with it now?’ I teased him.
‘No, course not!’ grinned Jackson. ‘Just check this out …’
He tugged the back doors of the van open.
Thing looked at me and I looked at Thing.
Nope, neither of us understood.
‘A perfect snug and dry den for Thing to curl up in!’ Jackson announced with a flourish of his arms.
Thing made a little surprised ‘Hmmmff !’ sound and peeked inside.
‘I guess it could work,’ I admitted. ‘But we’ll have to cover it up, so no one spots it …’
‘Yes! We can park it here—’
Jackson drove the brightly coloured van into the nook of some tree roots. (I swear he was making brum-brum noises under his breath.)
‘—and cover it with branches and moss and stuff !’
As he grabbed some greenery to disguise the Mystery Machine, Thing watched with great interest.
‘What do you think?’ Jackson asked it finally, brushing his blond hair back from his face and getting some moss stuck in it.
‘It’s nice …’ Thing nodded, rubbing its paws together nervously.
‘You could put stuff inside, to make it … um … crunchy like your old home!’ I suggested (even though I didn’t know what I was talking about).
‘Yes! Yes, please!’ Thing jabbered, now clapping its paws together excitedly.
I glanced at Jackson, and smiled a you-did-good smile at him.
Jackson looked chuffed and shy at the same time, and hid his awkwardness by sticking his hand under his arm and making a ffftt! noise.
The Curse of the Jelly Babies Page 4