The Incredible Shrinking Girl

by Lou Kuenzler

  I couldn’t just nip out and buy a new pack either. Our local shop only sells , kinds of breakfast cereals. The kind that everyone – except Mum – wants to pop out and buy. To get more Oaty Flakes, I’d have to go all the way to the health food shop on the other side of town. There was no one to give me a lift just now. Dad had been called into work because of an emergency computer meltdown or something and Mum was still in the shower, getting ready for her meeting with Nurse Bridget.

  I poured myself another bowl of – OK, they didn’t taste as good as normal … but the of Mum actually letting me eat junk food was too good an opportunity to miss.

  Why couldn’t be the secret to my shrinking? A little cocoa powder, a lot of sugar – YUM! Instead, I was supposed to act like a hamster and eat healthy Oaty… Wait a minute!

  I leapt up, spilling my across the table. Mum said she’d fed the Oaty Flakes to Hannibal, but perhaps he hadn’t eaten them all. He can be a very slow eater … always stuffing his cheeks.

  I ignored the pool of chocolatey milk dripping off the table and peered into the hamster cage on the counter beside me.

  “Hello, little fellow!”

  Hannibal looked up, his cheeks stuffed full as if he knew I might be after the last of his dinner.

  “It’s all right,” I whispered. “I just want to see if you’ve got any Oaty Flakes left.”

  I opened the cage and my hand inside.

  “YES!” Hannibal’s bowl was nearly half full.

  I cried. My heart was beating like a tambourine at a school concert. I popped a handful of the flakes into my mouth.

  I swallowed hard, forcing the dry cardboardy shavings down my throat. “And a few more to keep me going,” I said, stuffing my dressing-gown pocket.

  Everything was at last! Now I’d eaten the Oaty Flakes, all I had to do was persuade Mum to take me with her when she went to see Nurse Bridget this morning. It had taken at least two hours between eating the breakfast cereal and starting to shrink in the queue. So I’d have plenty of time now. I should be safely at the retirement centre long before I started to shrink!

  I’d wait for Mum to finish her shower. Then I could go and see Gran, tell her my plan. I’d begin to investigate the moment I shrank.

  I clapped my hands. Excitement through me as I leant up on to the counter, jiggling my feet above the ground.

  “I’m going to catch the thief!” I told Hannibal. I stretched my hand into the back of the cage to stroke him. “This is going to wor… Whoa!”

  My toes tingled. A strange flying sensation shot through my body, like I’d been pinged through the air on an elastic band.

  “WHEEEEEEEE!”

  I was plunging forward – tumbling head first into Hannibal’s cage. I saw the kitchen roll and the kettle whooshing past – suddenly as big as giant skyscrapers on the counter beside me.

  “Stop! Wait! I’m not supposed to be shrinking yet!”

  The sawdust on Hannibal’s floor seemed to be rushing up towards me. I threw my arms out to steady my fall. Beside me, on the bottom of the cage, was a sunflower seed. It was the same size as my tiny outstretched hand.

  I rolled myself into a tight ball, tumbling forward until I came to a stop underneath Hannibal’s water drinker.

  “Wow!” I said. “The Oaty Flakes really worked!”

  I jumped to my feet and stared up into the surprised eyes of my pet hamster. Hannibal was standing up on his hind legs, food popping out of the corner of his mouth. I’ve always thought of him as cute and cuddly … but now he seemed more like a grizzly bear. Raised up on his legs, he was taller than me … and a lot fatter!

  “T-t-thanks for letting me drop in like this!” I stuttered.

  But Hannibal backed away. He seemed even more scared of me than I was of him.

  “Don’t worry. It’s me! Violet!” I said. “I’ve shrunk, that’s all!”

  Ten minutes later, I was pacing up and down the hamster cage. I rattled the bars, desperately trying to push open the door, which had swung closed behind me when I fell in. Hannibal seemed to have got used to the idea of a tiny girl. He only glanced up at me every once in a while now, between mouthfuls of food. I think he was trying to eat the last of the Oaty Flakes before I could.

  “It’s all right for you,” I said. “You’re used to being locked in here!”

  I had no idea I was going to shrink so fast – right after eating the Oaty Flakes! Now, here I was, trapped inside the cage.

  Gran was miles away on the other side of town and Mum would be leaving any minute to visit her.

  I tried pushing the door again.

  But I was too to open the cage. If I could just get up a bit of speed … a bit of force … perhaps I could whack it open with some kind of cool, mini kung fu karate kick. (I knew I should have gone to kick-boxing classes at the Martial Arts School last summer instead of the Kids’ Yoga Camp Mum sent me on.) Still, I’d have to try my best!

  “HI YA!” I on to his hamster wheel. If I could just get it spinning fast enough, I could leap off and fly through the air.

  It’s not as easy as it looks being a hamster! You have to run really, really fast to get the wheel spinning at all. But once you do get it going, it’s an feeling – better than being on the big wheel at the fair!

  Hannibal must have thought it looked pretty fun too because he hopped on and joined me.

  “Come on! Faster!” I urged as we both sped round together, the red plastic wheel spinning beneath us.

  Whoops! We must have gone a bit too fast.

  “Sorry!” I yelped as I landed on Hannibal’s back. My legs were either side of his chubby body as if I were riding a Shetland pony.

  I thought I might have hurt Hannibal. But he jumped happily off the wheel with me clinging on like a jockey. He charged around the cage, over half-chewed toilet rolls as if he were a race horse.

  As we leapt up, I spotted that Mum and Tiffany had both come downstairs.

  “HELLO!” I shouted. “OPEN THE CAGE!”

  “What’s the matter with that hamster, Tiff?” Mum’s voice boomed from far away across the room. “Did you hear that funny squeaking sound?”

  “Mum!” I cried. If she was out of the shower, she must be ready to go and see Gran…

  I pulled myself up to get a better view. Stretching my arms out like a circus rider, I balanced shakily on Hannibal’s back.

  Mum was by the fridge. She was checking her watch.

  “It wasn’t Hannibal squeaking!” I called out. “It was me!”

  “There he goes again,” said Mum, grabbing her car keys. “He doesn’t normally do that, does he?”

  “Dunno?” shrugged Tiffany. She’s not exactly Doctor Dolittle, the animal lover. Tiff’s idea of keeping a pet is looking after her own hair.

  Mum came over and peered down through the bars.

  “MUM! Look! It’s…!”

  Hannibal chose that exact moment to go through a toilet roll instead of over it.

  I was toppled to the ground like a mini bowling pin.

  I lay on my back in the sawdust, the breath knocked out of me.

  “He must be hiding somewhere,” sighed Mum. “I’ve got to rush. Keep an eye on him, will you, Tiff?” She pulled on her coat. “And look after Violet, too. I think she’s upstairs. She wanted to come but she’s not even dressed and I can’t be late for my meeting with Nurse Bridget.”

  “Oops!” Mum was right. I was still wearing my pyjamas and dressing gown. They were tiny now, of course … and I was so small, nobody would see me anyway!

  “That’s so unfair. Why do I always have to look after Violet?” moaned Tiffany.

  But I didn’t listen to another word.

  Mum was heading for the Sunset Retirement Centre! I needed to go with her if I was going to help Gran.

  Her handbag was hanging on the b
ack of the chair right below me…

  If I could just kick the cage door open and land in the bag, I’d be on my way.

  “Here goes!” I leapt back on to the wheel.

  Hannibal jumped up too – a blur of toffee-coloured fur galloping in front of me as we spun.

  “HI YA!” I cried as I leapt off the wheel. my tiny foot ready to kick the cage door wide open.

  Everything went perfectly to plan … or almost.

  The cage door burst open!

  “Cabin crew, ready for landing!” I cried. My feet skimmed the edge of the counter as I flew through the air and plopped safely into Mum’s handbag.

  What I hadn’t expected was that Hannibal would follow.

  “Eeeek!” He let out a strange, startled squeak as he jumped out of the cage and flew through the air after me.

  …He landed on my head.

  “Ouch! Careful!” It’s no joke, when you’re tiny, having a hefty hamster fall on you like a podgy Kung-Fu Panda.

  “Time you cut down on those Oaty Flakes!” I warned him as he rolled sideways and nibbled on the corner of Mum’s purse.

  “See you later, Tiffany!” said Mum as she grabbed her handbag and swung it on to her shoulder.

  WHUMP! Hannibal and I crashed into each other again.

  “See you later, Violet!” Mum called. I managed to scramble upright and caught sight of the banisters through the top of the open bag as she hurried out of the hall.

  I heard Mum slam the front door and the sound of her shoes crunching across the gravel on the driveway. Her key beeped as she opened the car and tossed her bag inside.

  “Geff off!” I mumbled through a mouthful of fur as Hannibal sat on my head yet again.

  Mum always drives really and really (I think it’s all that lettuce she eats – it makes her drive like a snail!)

  But she must have been worried about Gran, or scared she’d be late for her meeting with Nurse Bridget, because she bounced over some of the speed bumps – sending me and Hannibal rattling around again. And she revved her engine – almost deafening us – whenever she was stopped at the traffic lights. She even honked her horn at one driver and said a really rude word *!*!*!*! (which she definitely wouldn’t have said if she’d known I was hiding in her handbag).

  I nearly jumped up and told her to pay a pound to our family swear box. At least if she saw how tiny I was, she’d have to believe I’d told the truth about shrinking at the theme park. But I stopped myself.

  “If Mum saw me now, she’d get such a shock she’d crash the car!” I told Hannibal. Of course, he couldn’t understand a word I said. He carried on shredding a pack of tissues so that he could make a bed in the bottom of Mum’s bag.

  I scratched him behind the ear (which, now I was tiny, was more like petting a pony than a hamster).

  “The last thing we need is Mum in a panic,” I said.

  Mum is so determined that me and Tiff will grow up big and strong, she makes us eat nine portions of fruit and veg a day. If she saw that I really had shrunk to the size of a she’d speed straight to the hospital. She’d make the doctors keep me in a plastic bubble for the rest of my life! I’d have to live on nothing but healthy cabbage soup and mushed courgettes fed to me through a tube.

  “And I’ll be NO use to Gran in a plastic bubble!” I told Hannibal, as Mum stopped the car. “I have to prove she’s innocent and discover everything I can about the jewellery thefts.”

  We’d reached the Sunset Retirement Centre at last. I peeped over the top of the handbag as Mum swung it over her shoulder and set off towards Gran’s room.

  “Just keep your head down and DON’T make a squeak, Hannibal!” I warned him as we hurried through the lounge.

  Mum pushed open Gran’s bedroom door and inside.

  “Hello, Ma! Are you awake?” she said softly.

  When I peered out of the bag, I could see that Gran was either asleep or hiding under the covers. It didn’t look like she was going to say much again today.

  “See you later, Hannibal,” I whispered. He scratched his ear and looked at me blankly, but it made me feel better to talk to someone. “You stay here and eat the rest of the tissues. I’m going to creep down to the lounge and see what I can find out. With any luck, the REAL thief will be acting suspiciously…”

  Hannibal stuffed another mouthful of tissue into his cheeks.

  “Good! That’s a plan then!” I said.

  But as I looked down my head spun. Leaping from the handbag on Mum’s shoulder would be like jumping from a ten-storey building.

  I grabbed the only tissue Hannibal hadn’t nibbled.

  “Sorry, but I need that for a parachute.”

  I clambered up on to the edge of the handbag, holding the tissue out above my head.

  My legs were shaking as I balanced on the zip. Far beneath me, the brown carpet spread out like a ploughed field below an aeroplane.

  “Three … two … one. GO!”

  I hesitated before I jumped, wondering if the plan would work. Would the tissue be strong enough to hold me? Would I fall to the ground like a stone? But then Mum took a step forward. I was thrown off the edge of the bag and – the tissue filled with air.

  “Perfect!” I floated gently down to the floor like a feather. Ha! Now I’d been skydiving … and I didn’t even have to wait for Dad to agree.

  As soon as I hit the ground, I dodged Gran’s closing door and sped away down the corridor. A jagged rip in the carpet sent me flying flat on to my nose. But I picked myself up and kept close to the wall.

  and I ran. It felt like I was running a marathon instead of making my way down a corridor. I stopped for a moment, gasping for breath. As I looked up, the last person I expected to see was Ratty-Riley.

  But there he was, coming along the corridor. I recognized his trainers right away.

  It’s amazing what you can learn from someone’s feet when you’re down at the same level as their shoes. I noticed at once that there was something odd about the way Riley was moving. He wasn’t running or walking down the corridor … he was creeping. That’s the only word for it. His trainers weren’t making any sound at all.

  I spy with my little eye somebody up to no good! I thought.

  As he tiptoed closer, I looked up at Riley’s face. He was chewing his bottom lip and glancing nervously back over his shoulder with every step he took.

  “Nan?” he whispered, crouching down outside Mrs Paterson’s door. “Nan? Are you in there?” He peered through the keyhole.

  I was right beside Riley now, hoping he wouldn’t look down… Apart from anything else, I was still wearing my tiny dressing gown and spotty cow-print pyjamas! And what if I were to suddenly grow tall again? How would I explain that?

  “Nan?” he whispered again. There was no answer from Mrs Paterson’s room. But Riley opened the door anyway and slunk inside very quietly.

  Why was Riley acting so suspiciously? Why was he going into his grandmother’s room when he knew she wasn’t there? This was the very same room where the diamond ring had been stolen…

  Wait a mini moment! Could Riley Paterson be the thief?

  One thing was certain. Whatever he was up to, I was going to follow him and find out!

  I dived into Mrs Paterson’s room, rolling on to my hands and knees before the door slammed shut.

  Riley jumped guiltily at the sound. He didn’t spot me crawling across the rug like a very big beetle (but a very small girl).

  He headed straight for his grandma’s bedside table and tried to open the top drawer. It must have been locked, though, because after he rattled it a few times he gave up and hurried over to the window sill.

  “It might still be here…” he muttered to himself.

  I edged across the carpet, hiding behind a pair of Mrs Paterson’s slippers as I stood up on tiptoe to try to see
what he was doing. He lifted the plant – the same one my gran had watered – and took a gold key from underneath it.

  So he was up to no good! That was the key to Mrs Paterson’s jewellery drawer. I remembered it was hidden under her plant pot. That’s why everyone thought Gran had found the key and stolen the diamond ring when she was on Plant Patrol.

  I couldn’t believe Mrs Paterson was still hiding the key in the same place.

  “Got it!” grinned Riley.

  But I was ahead of him! I across the rug (which was about the length of a football pitch to me now). Then I hauled myself up the cable of the bedside lamp as if I were climbing a rope. Thank goodness for the hours I’ve spent in the playground at King’s Park. If you don’t want to use the ladder to climb to the highest slide, you can get there by a rope instead, and I never use the ladder. Perfect practice for a tiny spy, it turns out!

  I on to the bedside table and crouched down behind the lamp. Riley came back across the room with the key.

  He was so excited about whatever it was he was hoping to find, he began his nails and making funny little squeaking sounds.

  Sometimes I really do think that boy is three quarters actual proper RAT!

  “Eeee. Eeee. Tee-hee!” he squeaked, slipping the key into the lock.

  This was it! My palms felt sweaty. I was gripping the lamp so hard, I left small damp fingerprints on the brass. I was in the place to see everything … Riley was about to steal a piece of Mrs Paterson’s jewellery. I was sure of it!

  He jiggled the drawer open.

  My heart was . Now I could prove it wasn’t Gran who was the thief … it was Riley-the-Robber. A TOTAL rat who’d steal from his own grandma!

  “Tee, eee, eee,” squeaked Riley again, grinning from ear to ear. His hand shot into the drawer.