Dad was all right. She thought maybe he’d had a funny turn – you know, gone a bit dippy in the head. Mum smiled and said that wasn’t anything new. He’d been like that for ages. It’s quite a relief to see her back to her usual self. She doesn’t worry about Crunchbag at all, but I do. I wish I knew that he was OK.
13 Under Lock and Key
You won’t believe what’s happened in the last two hours! First of all Dad came rocketing down the road on his bike at turbo-speed, chased by a police car. The lights were flashing and the siren was so loud you would have thought he had just stolen the crown jewels.
Everyone came rushing out of their houses to see what was going on. Mum came in from the garden and was just betting me a million pounds that all the noise was something to do with Dad, when he burst into the house, shouting at her.
‘They’re after me! They’re after me! They want to put me away! Quick!’ He threw himself into the cupboard under the stairs and pulled the door shut.
Then the police car stopped on our driveway. Two policemen got out, raced straight into the house and just about pushed Mum and me up against the hall wall. One burst into the back room, yelling and waving his truncheon, much to Granny’s surprise. The other one asked Mum if she was OK.
‘Of course I’m all right. What on earth is going on?’
‘We’ve just seen a madman come running into this house, madam! We’ve got to catch him. He’s quite desperate. He cycled up your garden path – probably a stolen bicycle I shouldn’t wonder. It’s a ladies’ mountain bike. What kind of man would ride a ladies’ bicycle I ask you? He’s been terrorizing the area for days, racing round and screaming ‘CRUNCHBAG!’ at old-age pensioners and little kiddies. We’ve got to get him before he becomes even more dangerous.’
I could see Mum was desperately trying not to laugh. But it was no use. She suddenly collapsed in a fit of giggles, and so did I. She looked at me and laughed even more. I could hardly hold myself together I was laughing so much.
The two policemen were getting quite cross, but we couldn’t stop, not for ages. Eventually Mum managed to blurt out the whole story about Dad and the alligator. The police were clearly disappointed. ‘Looks like we’ve been on a wild-goose chase,’ said one. Mum clutched his arm.
‘It isn’t a wild goose, it’s a wild alligator!’ she giggled.
The police left in a nasty huff, saying that people who wasted police time ought to be locked up.
Anyhow, to finish off, Dad started shouting from the cupboard under the stairs. He wanted to be let out now that the police had gone. Mum stopped laughing and stood outside the little door listening to Dad. She looked across at me and gave a long, satisfied sigh. ‘I think it’s high time we took control of your father, don’t you, Nicky? Maybe those two policemen were right.’ I nodded, although I had no idea what she was planning to do next.
She got the key for the cupboard and locked Dad inside! ‘I’m leaving you in there, you horrible man!’ she shouted through the keyhole. ‘You’re a dangerous madman and it’s the only safe place for people who keep their alligators in their gardens. Goodnight!’
That was two hours ago. Dad isn’t shouting so much now. I don’t know how long Mum is going to leave him there. I can’t even sneak him some food. Mum’s got the only key.
14 A Night Under the Stairs
Granny got us up at two o’clock this morning! Well, actually I suppose it was Dad’s fault really. All his shouting woke her up. It woke me up too. By the time I got to the top of the stairs Granny was down there talking to the cupboard.
‘Is there anyone there?’
‘Oh, thank goodness,’ came Dad’s muffled voice. ‘Who’s out there? Is that you, Nicky?’
Granny put one ear to the keyhole. ‘Is anyone there?’ she said again.
‘Yes! I’m here!’ yelled Dad. ‘Let me out at once!’
‘You’ll have to speak louder,’ Granny shouted through the keyhole. ‘Stop whispering.’
‘LET ME OUT!’ screamed Dad. Granny stepped back a pace, grimly muttering to herself. ‘There’s somebody in that cupboard. I’ll soon sort him out!’ She hurried back to her room and fetched a snooker cue. She stood by the door and raised the stick with both hands. ‘Come out at once,’ she commanded. ‘I shall knock your head off!’
Mum came hurrying out of the bedroom pulling on her dressing-gown. She stood next to me, leaning over the banister and watching the little drama downstairs. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I’m sure she was enjoying every minute.
‘Come out, you beastly thief!’ shouted Granny.
‘I can’t come out, you steaming bumblehead! It’s me, Mother! Your son, Ron!’
‘That sounds like my son, Ron,’ muttered Granny, gripping her cue even more firmly. ‘The sneaky stinker is trying to fool me. I’ll soon teach him!’ There was a resounding as Granny hit the door with her stick. ‘Take that!’ she cried. ‘And that!’
Mum whispered in my ear, ‘I think I’d better sort this out.’ She went downstairs.
‘There’s a man in your cupboard, dear,’ declared Granny.
‘I know. Don’t worry,’ Mum shouted into Granny’s hearing-aid. ‘I’ll call the police. You go back to bed and get some sleep.’
‘You should call the police,’ advised Granny. ‘I’m going back to bed to get some sleep.’ And off she went. Meanwhile the cupboard door was being shaken almost off its hinges.
‘Is that you, Brenda? For pity’s sake let me out. Please!’
Mum looked up at me. ‘Shall I?’ she whispered, bending down by the door. Before I could answer she straightened up. ‘No, how stupid of me to even consider it. Come on, Nicholas, we should all be in bed fast asleep. There’s no point wasting time over lunatics who have no consideration for others and insist on keeping alligators!’ Her teeth snapped shut on the last word, just like Crunchbag. I took one last glance at the cupboard and we went back to bed.
15 The Showdown
Dad spent the whole night under the stairs! Mum went down to the kitchen and made breakfast very noisily, so that Dad could hear everything. She clattered breakfast plates just outside the cupboard door. She had this wonderful serene look on her face, as if she was completely at peace. She was certainly completely in charge.
Meanwhile Dad was shouting from behind the door, ‘What’s all that noise? What are you doing out there?’
Mum stood by the door and winked at me. ‘I’m having my breakfast, you nasty madman. I’m stirring my coffee. Hmm! It smells delicious!’
‘Let me out, Brenda, please. I’ll do anything…’
‘I’m buttering my hot toast and piling on the marmalade. Listen to it crunch between my teeth. Oh, what a magnificent taste-explosion. There’s nothing like a slap-up breakfast first thing in the morning.’
‘LET ME OUT!’ screamed Dad, attacking the door again.
Mum stopped play-acting and bent down beside the door. ‘Do you promise to put away your clothes instead of leaving them lying about all over the place?’
‘YES!’
‘Do you promise to clean the bath after you’ve used it?’
‘YES!’
‘Do you promise to clean the toilet?’
‘NO!’
‘Wrong answer!’ snapped Mum. ‘Someone has to clean it.’
‘All right, yes, anything, but let me out!’
‘Just one small point, Ronald,’ said Mum in an icy tone. ‘Do you promise to get rid of that alligator?’
‘YES! YES! YES!’ cried Dad.
Mum opened the door.
Dad was so stiff he had to crawl out on his hands and knees. The look on his face was like a cardboard box that had been out in the rain all night… completely crumpled.
Mum ran him a huge hot bath so that he could relax and unstiffen. Then she made him a giant’s breakfast – fried egg, toast, sausages, mushrooms, bacon, the lot.
You would have thought he’d been in that cupboard for a month. Sometimes Mum sends me to my roo
m for hours, but she never cooks me anything like that when I’m allowed out. It’s not fair.
Dad didn’t say a word to Mum, but sat there with a gigantic scowl on his face. It wasn’t a murderous scowl; it was the face of defeat. I had never seen Dad like it before and I wasn’t sure what it meant. He had promised to get rid of Crunchbag, but I couldn’t see Dad giving up his alligator without some sort of struggle. Whatever he intended to do there was still one big problem – how do you get rid of something you haven’t got? Crunchbag was still out there somewhere.
16 Panic in the Park
Dad spent his whole morning sitting in an armchair, staring at nothing. Mum made him lunch and he still didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t even talk to me. I was just beginning to get quite worried by his behaviour, when he sprang from the chair, raced to the front window and flung it wide open.
In the far distance I could hear the wail of a siren. It grew steadily louder until a fire-engine went booming past. Hardly had it squealed round the corner when another siren came up fast and a second engine thundered down the road. Several streets away we could hear a police car wailing, approaching from a different direction.
But where were they all going?
‘The park!’ Dad cried. ‘Quick – sound the alarm! Tell the Queen! Call out the army!’
‘But, Dad, what’s going on?’
He gave me a mad grin. ‘I’m going to save the orld, Nicky!’ And with that he leaped out of the front window and went charging off. What could I do except leap after him and try to keep up?
‘But what’s going on, Dad?’ I panted from way behind. His answer was a single word flung back over one shoulder.
‘CRUNCHBAG!’
Of course! There was a small lake in the park, just right for a water-loving alligator. When we got there it was already surrounded by jostling people and vehicles. There were five fire-engines, eight police cars and two ambulances. There was also an ice-cream van, but I don’t think that was
really part of it.
Dad pushed his way down to the lakeside. Out in the centre ducks were thrashing about making a tremendous clatter. Wherever they landed the water would suddenly boil up and the ducks would give strangled squawks and desperately struggle off somewhere else.
The firemen and police had launched a couple of rowing-boats and were paddling about trying to keep up with the ducks. I asked Dad what they were trying to do.
‘It’s Crunchbag. He’s out here!’ said Dad with immense satisfaction. ‘He’s after those ducks. I saw his slitty eyes just now. Well, your time has come, Crunchbag. Superman is on his way!’
The only boats left were pedalos. Dad grabbed one and started pedalling furiously across the lake. The police yelled at him to go back, but he ignored them. ‘That’s my alligator you’re after! I’ll deal with him. He is completely in my command –does anything I say.’ I don’t know why Dad told them such complete rubbish, but the next bit was even worse. He started shouting things like, ‘Good Crunchie –Sit! Stay!’
Two of the policemen on the shore gave each other knowing looks. ‘That’s the mad loony we were after yesterday,’ they declared, promptly jumped on another pedalo, and set off in pursuit of Dad.
‘Hey! You! You’re wanted for questioning! Come here!’ The police pedalo was catching up on Dad and then one of the rowing-boats
joined the chase too. I could hardly bear to watch. The crowd were shouting, the police were bawling through megaphones, Dad was yelling ‘Sit! Good Crunchie!’ and Crunchbag carried on trying to see how many ducks he could catch in one go.
Dad stopped in the middle of the lake. ‘That’s right, sir,’ bellowed the police. ‘Just stay there nice and easy. You’ll be all right.’ The boats closed in. Dad got to his feet. He tore off his shirt. The crowd cheered. He
kicked off his shoes and with a magnificent Tarzan yodel he dived into the lake, throwing himself on top of the cruising alligator.
‘He’s trying to kill himself!’ cried the police, and three of them jumped in after him. The fire brigade didn’t want to be left out, so four of them leaped in, with their helmets still on. The crowd began to shout things like ‘Spoilsports! Let him fight the alligator. He’s a hero!’
‘He’s a nutcase!’ the police yelled back.
In the middle of the lake there was a tremendous battle going on. First we saw Dad, then we saw Crunchbag, then a few firemen – or was it policemen? They all look the same when they’re wet through. There were blue and yellow helmets bobbing about on the water. At last we heard a yell of ‘One, two, three, heave!’ and they pushed Crunchbag into a boat, tied to an oar with police belts and firemen’s trousers. There was another yell, and this time they heaved Dad into a boat. He was tied to an oar too.
The crowd started to boo. It was really good knowing that the crowd supported my dad. I guess he’d given them pretty good entertainment. The police on shore had to hold back the people as Crunchbag and Dad were brought from the boats. Half the firemen didn’t have any trousers and the police kept clutching at theirs to stop them falling down round their ankles.
Dad hung upside down from the oar. He grinned at me as he was carried past. ‘Tell them to go easy on the sage and onion stuffing,’ he said, just before he was shoved into the back of a police van.
The last I saw of him he was singing cheerfully from behind locked doors as the van was being driven away.
17 Please Release Me!
I raced back to the house and burst in. ‘Dad’s going to prison!’ I yelled at Mum, trying to explain everything and pulling her back out of the house and down the front path.
‘This has gone too far,’ said Mum. ‘It’s all right for your father to act daft – everyone expects it these days – but when the police start behaving so childishly something must be done. Come on, Nicholas, we’re going to sort this out once and for all.’
I felt an ocean of relief swell into my heart. Mum was taking charge, and she proved to be brilliant. She marched into the police station and asked for her husband back, as if he was a ball she’d lost over the fence.
‘And who is your husband, madam?’ asked the desk sergeant.
‘The one singing “PLEASE RELEASE ME, LET ME GO…”’
‘I’m sorry, madam, but he’s mad and dangerous.’
‘Nonsense! He’s over forty, that’s all. Men go like that, you know.’ She glared at
the sergeant. ‘As far as I know he hasn’t actually broken the law, has he?’
The sergeant scratched his head. ‘He threw himself in the lake,’ he muttered.
‘Is that against the law?’
‘No, madam, but then he wrestled with that alligator we’ve got roped up over there.’ For the first time I caught sight of Crunchbag, lurking in the corner with his eyes looking very slitty indeed.
‘Is it against the law to wrestle alligators?’ asked Mum.
‘No, madam.’
‘In that case, please let him out and I shall take him home – unless you wish him to carry on singing?’
That clinched it. Dad was brought up from the interview room. He took one look at Mum, threw his arms wide and ran towards her.
Mum stepped back quickly. ‘Don’t touch me. You’re soggy and horrible. You can get in the boot again and don’t say a word.’
The desk sergeant undid Crunchbag’s rope and handed the lead over to Dad. Mum snatched it from his hand, let it drop to the floor and delivered her crunch-line.
‘Oh, do keep the alligator. He won’t be needing it any longer.’
I think Crunchbag agreed, because at this point he fastened both jaws round a big metal waste-paper bin standing in the corner. The last we saw of Crunchbag, there were two policemen trying to prise his jaws open, another one holding his tail and the desk sergeant trying to get his arms around
Crunchbag’s body.
‘We’ll give him to the zoo, madam,’ panted the sergeant as he was thrown back against the wall.
Meanwhile Crunchbag was
giving the bin a good old shaking and was gaily sprinkling rubbish over most of the lobby.
18 A Toast to Crunchbag
Mum cooked a special meal to celebrate Crunchbag’s departure. We even had wine! ‘Here’s a toast to our absent alligator friend,’ said Mum, raising her glass.
‘What’s that about an alligator, dear?’ Granny asked. We burst out laughing. None of us could explain of course. Where would we start?
I’m a bit sad about Crunchbag going. I think Dad is too. He was really good fun while we had him. I’ve got a strong feeling that he enjoyed himself too. I hope he’s gone to a good home. Maybe he’ll escape and make his way back here…
Guess what we all did after supper? We all sang on Dad’s karaoke machine! The Martians were furious! Dad’s told Mum he’s going to get a new pet. Mum said that was OK so long as it wasn’t another
alligator or a snake or anything with too many teeth. Dad’s getting it tomorrow. I’ve no idea what it will be.
19 What’s That?
The new pet is here. It’s a bird and it looks a bit scraggy to me. Even Mum thinks so. She asked Dad why did it have such a big head and neck?
‘Vultures always look like that,’ said Dad.
Mum’s voice went all high and squeaky. ‘VULTURE?’ she squawked. ‘THAT’S A VULTURE?’
My Dad's Got an Alligator! Page 3