Lessons for a Werewolf Warrior

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Lessons for a Werewolf Warrior Page 5

by Jackie French


  Now other pants on, shirt on, shoes on — grrr! Cow guts! He’d forgotten his socks again. Shoes off, socks on, shoes on again. Hat on, school bag — he’d even had a (yuck!) bath yesterday. The Werewolf General had told him that Two Foots had a (double yuck!) bath every night.

  The (triple yuck!) bath had washed off just about all his smell, too. It was hard to recognise himself without his smell! But if a (noooooo!) bath was what it took to become a Hero — and find Mum — Boo would do it.

  Boo looked at himself in the mirror. A cool-looking and slightly ferocious Hero looked back, wearing a blue silk shirt and red silk pants, with shaggy hair instead of furry puppy fuzz. I rock! thought Boo. Even if he still felt a bit unsteady on only half his usual legs.

  The Werewolf General was right, he admitted to himself. There was nothing ‘cute’ about this kid at all!

  ‘Grrr!’ he said to the kid in the mirror. ‘Grrr-owl!’ He grrred again as the reflection growled back.

  It was funny, he thought. If the Greedle had never invaded Sleepy Whiskers he’d be going to deliver Poodlepops today, not going to learn to be a Hero.

  But somewhere deep inside him, he realised, he wanted to go to the School for Heroes — and not just to learn how to rescue Mum.

  Who am I really? he wondered. He’d been so sure a few weeks ago. Boojum Bark, delivery wolf and apprentice ice-cream maker. He’d spend his life making frozen Rat Surprises and Poodlepops, take over the shop one day and have pups of his own. An everyday sort of werewolf.

  And now? Now he was going to be a Hero.

  Somehow it felt … right. As long as he didn’t fall flat on his face, anyway. Boo trudged his two feet down the stairs to breakfast.

  The family were already perched on their cushions at the low kitchen table lapping up their breakfast. Spot sniffed and giggled. ‘You smell like soap!’

  Boo gave her his deepest growl. ‘It’s not funny!’

  ‘No, of course it isn’t,’ said Mrs Bigpaws hurriedly. ‘You smell very … smart, Boo dear. Here’s your breakfast. Eat up. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.’

  Boo looked at his plate. It was fried eggs and sheep’s eyeballs. Normally he loved fried eggs and eyeballs. But this morning the eyeballs kept looking at him as though to say, ‘We know what’s going to happen today, even if you don’t’.

  Boo stabbed an eyeball awkwardly with his fork and gulped it down hurriedly. There! That stopped it looking at him anyway.

  What was he so nervous about? The Werewolf General said he was a Hero!

  Then why did he feel like a puppy who’d only just learnt to open its eyes? Why did his tummy feel like it was filled with beetles?

  Stop it, he told himself. He could be trotting through Sleepy Whiskers now, on his way to deliver the first carton of Kittenlicious ice cream of the day. Instead, he was going to learn how to Wham! Bam! Pow!

  I can do it! he told himself firmly. I can walk on two legs. I can use door handles.

  But if he ate another eyeball he’d be sick.

  Boo pushed his plate away. ‘Um, thank you for breakfast,’ he said.

  ‘But, Boo,’ began Mrs Bigpaws. ‘You’ve hardly eaten anything! Have another eyeball!’

  ‘No, really, thank you.’ He picked up his school bag. ‘I … I’d better be off,’ he muttered. He pushed open the door … and gasped.

  9

  Footsteps down the Wormhole

  The garden was full of werewolves. Wolves in human form, wolves in fur and collars. Old wolves, young wolves, the pups from the Chase-the-Ball pack. There was old Ms Shaggy in human form with her great-nephews, and all the customers of the Best Ice-Cream Shop in the Universes.

  And there, out front, sat the Werewolf General, with all his medals gleaming on his collar.

  Boo heard Mr Bigpaws come out behind him. He cleared his throat. ‘Woof!’ he called in his best Mayor-Making-a-Speech voice. ‘Today we send off one of our own to the most exclusive school in all the universes! Boojum Bark, this is a proud day for Sleepy Whiskers! Now, you go and show them all what a werewolf Hero can do!’

  The crowd cheered. ‘Grrr! You show them, Boo!’ called someone.

  Old Ms Shaggy shuffled up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. It’s funny to feel lips on bare skin, thought Boo.

  ‘Good luck, Boo,’ she whispered.

  Boo gulped. ‘Er — woof!’ he muttered. There was no way he could say any more.

  The crowd parted as he marched towards the Best Ice-Cream Shop in the Universes. The Werewolf General limped up and began to pad by his side.

  ‘Embarrassing, isn’t it?’ he muttered out of the side of his mouth, his wooden paw clunking on the paving. ‘All part of being a Hero. You wait till they throw flowers. Or all the girls kiss you. Actually,’ he added, ‘that bit isn’t too bad.’

  The wolves in human shape were still clapping behind him, and the wolves were thudding their tails on the ground. Suddenly Boo felt better. New silk pants, new silk shirt, and walking with the Werewolf General.

  Cool! He felt his mouth turning up into a grin. If he’d still had his tail he’d have wagged it. I’m going to show those kids at the School for Heroes, he decided. Look out, you lot! The werewolf is coming to the mountain!

  Boo pushed open the door of the Best Ice-Cream Shop in the Universes. Even without his wolf nose he could tell its smells had changed. Mum’s scent was fainter, and the smell of ice cream, too.

  There was even a faint smell of mouse. Mice usually avoided werewolf homes. Mouse-on-toast was Boo’s favourite afternoon snack.

  But not this morning. His tummy squirmed at the thought.

  The Werewolf General glanced at him sympathetically, but he didn’t say anything.

  Mum’s room looked just the same. There was the drawing he’d given her on Mother’s Day three years ago, and the squeaky toy he’d played with when he was a tiny puppy …

  No, he couldn’t think of Mum now. Concentrate, he told himself. This is the start of my Hero career!

  Boo knelt down and lifted the bedspread. At least under the bed looked the same.

  ‘Got your lunch?’

  Boo held up his school bag and nodded. ‘And my Band-Aids and rope.’

  ‘Good,’ barked the Werewolf General softly. ‘And good luck. See you this afternoon.’ He gave Boo a comforting nuzzle, his big damp nose cool on Boo’s warm hand. ‘Now, once you’re down in the tunnel, turn right and head for the heat. You’ll pass other tunnels down there. Ignore them. Oh, and as soon as you come out of the tunnel yell “Student approaching!” so that the tunnel guards know you’re not a bogey.’

  ‘What do they do to bogeys?’

  The Werewolf General shrugged his furry shoulders. ‘Depends who’s on duty. Bildoon the Bold decapitates them with his false teeth. I saw Fearsome Fanny of Frogmore bash a bogey into submission with her hearing aid once. The older a Hero is the more ways they learn to attack bogeys.’

  Boo gulped. ‘Head for the heat. Yell “Student approaching!” Right. Um, how do I find my way back here?’

  ‘That’s easy. Every time you take a trip down a wormhole your next trip takes you back to where you came from. The only way to go somewhere else is to go with someone who came from there in the first place.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘No one knows. Well, maybe the Greedle or the Zurms do. But they’re not telling. Now, good luck.’

  ‘Wh—what if I meet a bogey down there?’

  The Werewolf General grinned, showing his long fangs. ‘Run.’

  Boo took a deep breath. ‘I’m a Hero!’ he reminded himself. Then he crawled under the bed.

  The floor began to sink.

  Down, down, down. The world was darkness. Like falling through Crushed Cockroach chocolate ice cream, thought Boo, except it isn’t quite as cold. And then the falling feeling stopped. His feet felt rock, even through his shoes.

  Boo looked around. At first, all he could see was darkness. Then slowly his eyes began to make out where he was.r />
  The wormhole ceiling was twice as high as the top of his head. The walls looked like rock, but when he brushed them with his hand he found them cool and soft. He pushed and felt his fingers slide into …

  Boo gulped. Nothingness, so cold he could feel his fingers freeze. He quickly pulled them out and blew on them to warm them up.

  Now, which way to go? Turn right and follow the warmth, the Werewolf General had said.

  If only he was in wolf shape! He couldn’t smell any warmth at all. Just a faint scent of popcorn and strawberry jam and … Boo sniffed. Yes, there was one smell strong enough to sniff even in human form. Mouse droppings! But there couldn’t be mice down here! What would they live on?

  Boo shrugged. Some droppings must have fallen from under his mum’s bed.

  He suddenly realised there were more questions he should have asked. How long would it take him to get to the school? How would he know when he’d got there?

  Boo gulped. It would all sort itself out. Maybe there’d be a big flashing sign saying: ‘School for Heroes! This way Welcome!’

  Get real, Boo told himself. How hard is it to follow the warmth? Concentrate!

  Yes! He could feel it now, even in human form. A faint breath of heat coming from … that way. Now, walk …

  Boo walked.

  The tunnel floor was surprisingly smooth and brown, like a well-made Rat Surprise. It sloped downhill to begin with, then sharply upwards.

  Now he was getting used to it, even his human-shaped nose could pick up other smells as well as popcorn and strawberry jam. Strange scents he’d never smelt before. Other bogeys? he wondered. Or other universes? He sniffed again, hoping there might be a faint trace of Mum’s scent too.

  But there wasn’t.

  But there was the smell of mouse, even stronger now. Maybe the mice are down here, thought Boo, not up in the shop at all. But why would mice live in a wormhole, where there were no crumbs to eat?

  Nah, it couldn’t be mice. Maybe some bogeys smelt like mice, he decided. Giant bogey mice with fangs … Stop it, he told himself. Maybe wormholes always smell of mouse as well as strawberry jam.

  Boo sighed and kept walking. At least he was getting more practice walking like a human.

  He was pretty sure he was going the right way. The tunnel was getting hotter, and hotter still. A new smell melded with the scents of mouse and mouldiness. Almost the smell of fire, like the time Mum had burnt a batch of ice-cream cones.

  Was someone cooking something?

  How far did this tunnel go? He still couldn’t see any sign of light from the other end. What if he was late for school? What happened to unpunctual Heroes? What if —

  Suddenly he stopped and listened. Someone else was in the tunnel. He was sure of it.

  Someone … or something!

  The Greedle!

  Except … this didn’t smell like the Greedle.

  What was it? If only he had his wolf nose! He strained to hear instead.

  Squeak! Pitter patter, pitter patter …

  There was something in the tunnel!

  What had the Werewolf General told him? If he met a bogey he was to run.

  Boo listened again. Yes, it was still there. Pitter patter, pitter patter …

  He should run now! If he started running now he might get to the school before the bogey caught him.

  But … what if this wasn’t a bogey? What if it was another kid going to Hero School? He’d look like a coward scampering from a bogey! He’d be a coward!

  Just wait and see, Boo decided cautiously. If it looks like a bogey I’ll run. Except … how will I be able to tell a kid from another universe from a bogey?

  He bit his lip. If it tries to rip my head off, he decided, it’s probably a bogey. And if it says, ‘Hi, what class are you in?’ it probably isn’t.

  Which isn’t much help.

  Pitter patter, pitter patter … the sound was closer now.

  At least, he thought, it sounds like a very small bogey. But maybe they’re the worst. Maybe small bogeys pierce your skull with their long hollow fingers and suck out your brains and …

  Stop thinking like that! he told himself. You’re a Hero! Or you will be. Just keep walking. Don’t run.

  Pitter patter, pitter patter …

  Well, maybe walk a little faster …

  Sweat poured down his neck. The heat was intense now. The burning smell was even stronger, like the time the barbecued rats had all caught fire. Even the rock beneath his shoes was hot.

  And either his eyes had adjusted to the dimness, or there was more light in the tunnel. Boo looked back, then squinted ahead. Aha! It was lighter ahead than behind! A strange red flickering light. He was nearly there!

  Just a little further and he would see what was following him, even if he couldn’t smell it. Boo stepped up his pace. He was steady enough on his two feet now to stride along.

  The weird red light grew brighter, and brighter still. It was so bright it hurt his eyes. Boo stopped and looked behind.

  Nothing.

  ‘Squeak!’

  Boo looked down.

  A mouse stared up at him. ‘Squeak!’ it said.

  A mouse! Boo glared. An ordinary mouse-sized mouse! Not even a bogey mouse. He’d been scared of a plain old mouse. How dare a mouse invade his hero’s tunnel!

  ‘Shoo,’ he said.

  The mouse twitched its whiskers. But otherwise it didn’t move.

  ‘Look,’ said Boo, ‘if you don’t head back the way you came right now, I’m going to chomp you up for morning tea. Or morning mouse. Get it?’

  ‘Squeak,’ said the mouse. It still didn’t move.

  Boo sighed. He didn’t like hurting things — apart from bogeys, he reminded himself. But he wasn’t going to make his first appearance at the School for Heroes with a mouse scampering after him.

  I’ll just have to catch it and frighten it a bit, he decided. How hard could it be to catch a mouse in human form? If a wolf could catch a rat before it was turned into a Surprise, then even a human could catch a mouse.

  Boo bent down slowly. The mouse stood there as his hand came nearer, then darted away just as he grabbed.

  Missed it!

  Why were human hands so clumsy? Teeth were better. You could really grab with teeth.

  Boo lunged again. The mouse jumped. It ran up his arm, squeaked at him triumphantly, then jumped up onto his head. How dare it! Boo snatched at his hair frantically, just as the mouse jumped down onto his shoulder.

  Grrr. He wasn’t going to let a mouse get the better of him! But there was no way these clumsy hands could grab a mouse.

  There was only one thing for it, Boo decided. He’d have to Change. Just for a few seconds, just time enough for his fangs to grab the mouse.

  PLUNG!

  Ah! Four legs instead of two! That was better! And real teeth! The tunnel seemed larger. The smells were richer, deeper. Yes, there it was, right by his nose!

  Snap!

  ‘What the —?’ Boo struggled frantically. Something had grabbed him! Held him! He couldn’t move!

  Was it another of the creatures of the Ghastly Otherwhen? Or … or …

  Or just his school clothes, Boo realised suddenly. He was trapped inside his school clothes!

  Grr! Cat guts! He’d forgotten about his clothes when he Changed. Now, how to get out of them … undo the buttons, that’d be a start.

  Boo stopped. There was no way his paws could undo the buttons. He’d have to Change back to human form, then undo the buttons, then …

  Wriggle, wriggle, pat, pat, pat …

  Boo froze. It was the mouse. Wriggling up his hind leg and … and, yes! The cheek of it! Running along his back!

  I’m a Hero! he thought. How dare that mouse treat me like this?!

  Maybe he could sort of edge his feet out of his clothes. Ah, that was it.

  The mouse was standing on his head now. Boo smiled to himself. He knew what to do.

  One. Two. Three. Woof!

>   Boo opened his mouth, flicked his head sideways and snapped his jaws.

  ‘Missed you!’ he snarled.

  ‘Squeak, squeak, squeakity squeak!’ protested the mouse. It scampered desperately down the tunnel towards the flickering red light.

  ‘Come back, you miserable mouse!’ roared Boo. ‘Woof! Woof woof woof!’ He galloped after the mouse, his paws pounding on the tunnel floor, dragging his clothes along with him. No mouse was going to outrun him!

  Suddenly the light was even brighter, a red glow all around him. But his nose was nearly touching the mouse now!

  ‘Got you!’ he growled, as his jaws closed round the furry softness.

  ‘Squeak!’

  ‘Aha, you varmint!’ A wooden walking stick thwacked Boo on his furry nose. ‘Thought you’d escape Mervin the Magnificent, did you!’ Thwack! Thwack! Thwark!

  ‘Leave off, Mervin! That bogey’s mine!’ Suddenly something looped around Boo’s throat. Something pink and fuzzy, he realised, tearing at it before it choked him.

  ‘Oh no it’s not! Finders keepers!’

  Thwack! Thwack!

  ‘Ow!’ yelped Boo, still pulling at the pink stuff. It’s wool, he thought. Someone had captured him with pink wool!

  ‘Nonsense! You guard the wormhole Tuesdays and Thursdays! This is on Monday!’

  ‘It is not! I remember Monday! We had roast tentacles for lunch on Monday.’

  ‘That was last Monday, you senile old —’

  ‘Senile! Old! I’ll show you old!’

  Boo gazed up at his attackers. They were arguing so hard now they were leaving him alone. The first was an elderly gorilla in a red cape, wrinkles and wheelchair, waving a walking stick. The other was an even older human woman, with a mass of too-red hair, a red sparkly dress hanging on her withered body, and a walking frame. She steadied herself on it with one hand while the other held the pink knitting that had captured him.

 

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