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The Mind Reading Chook

Page 2

by Hazel Edwards


  Chapter 6

  Sniffing Around

  ‘I hear you’ve been running around like a headless chook,’ says Flopsy, wiggling her ears.

  For such a beautiful bunny, Flopsy is so rude. A rabbit like her doesn’t think. Her words hurt. ‘Running around like a headless chook’: I can see that in my mind. That picture worries me even more than chicken recipes online.

  ‘Have you found Merlin’s sense of humour?’ asks grumpy Flopsy. ‘It’s nearly time for the magic show, isn’t it? I can’t remember what time he starts today.’

  ‘Remember’ was the clue. Maybe my idea was wrong? The guard said Flopsy got sprayed too. But Flopsy was just the same: grumpy before and after she was sprayed with Forget. She hasn’t lost her sense of humour because she never had one. But what if she’s forgotten something else?

  ‘If you’re not careful, Merlin will sell you at the bird auction,’ threatens Flopsy. ‘But I’ve forgotten which day it’s on.’

  Ah! Another clue. Has Flopsy forgotten days and times? Maybe the Forget spray did something different to her?

  Chapter 7

  The Forget-ory

  Other people have a memory. Merlin has a forget-ory. Get it? That’s the hole I saw in his mind last time I looked.

  I try to look into Flopsy’s mind.

  ‘Do you have a forget-ory?’ I ask.

  ‘What’s that?’ demands Flopsy.

  ‘It’s the opposite of a memory. Where you lose things ... like Merlin’s.’

  ‘How would I know what I haven’t got?’ says Flopsy crossly.

  As she pushes me away. I try to read Flopsy’s cotton-woolly mind. Inside Flopsy’s head are white clouds. Sometimes they quickly change to thunder clouds. Her mind is full of complaints that she knits together. She’s a cloud-knitter.

  ‘Go away, Astrid.’ She says. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Hurry up,’ Merlin bustles into the room. ‘We have to go to work.’ He is still not smiling . But he has unglued and fixed his magic wand. He’s wearing his cape with the secret pockets.

  I look into Merlin’s mind again. He’s thinking about the bird auction. Why? Perhaps Flopsy is right. Perhaps he is going to sell his birds. That means us. I’ll have to hurry.

  I pull out my mobile. I hit information. I get a recorded message. I need the number of the Perfume shop in the mall. Would the Remember perfume do the trick? I hope they take credit cards.

  Then I tap into Chooks Anonymous. I need hi-tech help.

  Chapter 8

  The Smell of Success

  I buy the smallest bottle of Remember. The price is a shock. How come that perfume girl sprayed so much for free?

  I hurry into the centre where the show is to be held. Shoppers are sitting waiting.

  Behind the stage, Merlin still looks unhappy. I x- ray his mind. It’s a murky mess.

  ‘Excuse me Merlin,’ I say politely. ‘Would you look this way?’

  I explain. He nods. I spray Remember.

  Merlin sneezes and then smiles. ‘This smells like fun.’

  It is a spray job. Once I’ve ‘neutralised’ Merlin, I’ve solved that mystery.

  The show goes well. The audience loves his act. They even like Flopsy. I just watch from the side. I don’t perform. Today I’m a sleuth, not an actor.

  Merlin laughs and jokes all afternoon.

  ‘Great show,’ agrees everybody.

  Merlin bows, laughs and smiles as widely as Luna Park.

  I call at the henhouse on my way home, but I’m too late. They already know.

  ‘Heard you found Merlin’s sense of humour,’ says Clara the Clairvoyant. ‘I knew you would.’

  ‘Just a hard-boiled detective,’ laughs Rooster. His mirror mind has pictures of himself with glossy feathers. ‘Any eggy ideas today?’

  I just wish my mobile would ring so he’d think I’m busy. But it doesn’t.

  Inspector Clues, the French chick smiles. ‘Remember is a French perfume. You should have asked me to help.’

  ‘It’s an after-shave,’ I say quickly.

  ‘Same thing,’ shrugs Clues.

  ‘They’re taking Forget and Stop! off the market,’ I say. ‘They need more testing.’

  ‘Should try farmyard perfumes, like Grain or Mush,’ says Rooster.

  For once, the hens agree.

  That night, Ben my agent pays me with three e-games. So I play Just-Eggs until bedtime.

  Next day, Ben rings again.

  ‘Carrot the Parrot’s lost his voice,’ says Ben.

  But that’s another story.

 

 

 


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