‘Turn back at once!’ she ordered.
‘But you said…’ began Buster.
‘Look, buster,’ said the girl, ‘in case you haven’t noticed, you’re naked! Nude! Undressed! Bare-bummed! I’m not going anywhere with a kid who has his you-know-what hanging out. Understood? And I don’t have any spare clothes for you, before you ask. Mum might come down here any minute, and if she sees a naked boy near my shed she’s going to have kittens! And no, she’s not a were-cat, she’s an average sort of mum who does not expect to see naked boys in her back yard! So get that fur back on. Now!’
Buster shut his eyes, nodded his head twice, then…
It was like a fart that tried to somersault, with a sort of prickle in between. He could feel his hands getting smaller, his tongue getting longer, and the bits that the girl objected to getting smaller too, and neatly covered in fur.
And he was back to being a wolf. Once again the world turned into rich smells, and the feeling that any problem could be solved as long as you could bite it.
The girl let out a long breath.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You really are…’ She stopped. ‘You know, I think we need to start again.’
CHAPTER 6
Detective Prunella
‘Right,’ said the girl, ‘my name’s Prunella and I’m a detective. Well, I am in the school holidays anyway.’
‘Prunella!’ chortled Buster. ‘You mean like prunes and custard, prunes that give you the runs, prunes that…’
Prunella glared at him. ‘You’re a talking dog called Buster and you think my name is funny!’
‘Well it is,’ observed Buster. ‘And I’m not a dog. I told you, I’m a werewolf!’
‘Look, buster,’ said Prunella. This time Buster was pretty sure her ‘buster’ still didn’t start with a capital ‘b’. ‘Do you want this case solved or not?’
‘Yes,’ said Buster meekly.
‘Then no wisecracks about my name.’ The girl looked around. ‘Maybe you’d better come inside. A talking dog is better than a naked boy, but if Mum sees me yakking to a dog, she’ll think I’ve gone bonkers.’
It was hot inside the shed. Buster sat on the faded mat with his tongue hanging out.
‘You don’t have a saucer of water, do you?’ he panted. It was alright for her, in shorts and a T-shirt. He had a thick fur coat on!
‘Can you drink out of this?’ Prunella held up a chipped, old mug that was full of pens.
‘Sure,’ said Buster.
He gazed around the shed while Prunella tipped the pens out onto the desk and filled up the mug from the tap in the garden. This shed was the messiest place he’d ever seen! It smelled good too, of mice and rotting paper.
There were bookshelves everywhere, crammed with books with titles like The Amazing Bonzo and the Case of the Disappearing Emeralds. That book looked cool, thought Buster.
There was a desk with only three legs—the fourth side was held up by a pile of books.
On top of the desk was a computer so old, it could have been steam-powered. There was a stack of old birthday cards, turned blank-side up, a chair, and an armchair with a sagging seat. Someone had shoved a lawn mower in the corner, as well as a spade, an empty bird cage and the back-half of a bicycle. That delicious smell of mouse droppings was all around.
Buster wondered if Prunella would mind if he tried to catch the mouse. He could do with a snack. Better not, he decided. Dad always said that humans were strange that way. As soon as food began to wriggle they’d scream.
Not that Prunella looked like a screamer, but still…
Prunella came back inside and put the mug on the concrete floor. Buster lapped the water gratefully. It didn’t taste of much; no leaves or wallaby droppings—just a faint taste of chemicals. But he was thirsty.
‘Thanks’, he said, then jumped up on the armchair, turned around three times, and collapsed onto the sagging seat.
‘You’d better not let Mum see you on that seat,’ Prunella warned. ‘She doesn’t allow dogs on the furniture.’
‘But I’m not a dog!’ began Buster. ‘I’m a…’
‘Yeah, I know, I know. You’re a werewolf. You try explaining that to my mum,’ said Prunella. ‘Anyhow, I bet she’d say no werewolves on the furniture either. Now, let’s get down to business.’
She picked up a card that said ‘To a good girl on her birthday, love Grandma’, and began to take notes on the blank side. ‘You said your mum and dad disappeared?’
‘Exactly how many cases have you had?’ inquired Buster suddenly.
Prunella glared at him. ‘Enough.’ she said. ‘Now, let’s start at the beginning…’
Half an hour later the card was full, and so was the back of ‘Merry Christmas from Uncle Peter’ and ‘What will the Easter Bunny bring you this year?’ Prunella gazed at her notes thoughtfully, while Buster hunted a flea that was biting his tummy.
‘So you see,’ Buster concluded, ‘it’s all just impossible! Mum and Dad just vanished, leaving no scent at all, and that simply can’t happen. Unless they were captured by aliens, of course.’
‘Or went in a car,’ suggested Prunella.
‘But…but cars hardly ever come up the mountain. Except for Uncle Wal’s,’ he added. ‘Uncle Wal’s a really good driver,’ he added proudly. Uncle Wal might growl a lot lately, but he was pack leader. And until Mum and Dad vanished he’d been really nice.
‘How do you all make a living then?’ asked Prunella curiously.
‘We sell sheepskins and rabbit fur and…’
‘How do you get the…actually, no don’t tell me,’ said Prunella hurriedly. ‘Look, if there’s a road, your parents might have left in a car.’
Buster blinked. ‘Why would Mum and Dad want to go in a car?’
‘That’s what we’ve got to find out! So the first thing we have to do now is…’ Prunella stopped. ‘Would you mind not doing that?’ she demanded.
‘Doing what?’
‘Licking your you-know-whats!’
‘Oh, sorry,’ said Buster guiltily, putting his hind leg down. Dad had always said that werewolf rule number seven was: Don’t lick your you-know-whats when you’re in human form. Buster supposed that also meant, don’t lick your you-know-whats when a human knows you’re a werewolf.
‘As I was saying,’ continued Prunella sharply. ‘The first thing to do is to call all the hospitals in the area just in case they had an accident.’
‘But what if Mum and Dad were in wolf form?’
‘And we’ll call all the dog pounds and vets, and maybe the police too, in case someone has reported seeing wolves around. What do your mum and dad look like?’
‘Well, Dad is dark and hairy.’
‘When he’s human, I mean,’ said Prunella.
‘When he’s human too. And Mum has golden fur and a really bushy tail and when she’s human, she’s blonde and her tail disappears. And they’ll both be…’ Buster stopped.
‘Well?’ demanded Prunella.
‘If they’re in human form they’ll be naked,’ whispered Buster, ‘because they didn’t take any clothes with them.’
‘Great,’ sighed Prunella. ‘We’re hunting two naked people, or two wolves who talk. Alright, I’ll ring around and see if any naked people have been taken to hospital, and you ring the vets and places like that. That is, if you know how to use a phone.’
‘Of course I know how to use a phone,’ said Buster affronted. ‘I’ve used one lots of times.’
‘Lots?’ demanded Prunella.
‘Well, once,’ admitted Buster. ‘Mum showed me! But I know how it’s done!’
‘Good. Then we’ll use the phones in the house. Mum’s an architect so we’ve got two phone lines—one for her work and one for us.’
‘But what will your mum say if she finds me in your house?’ demanded Buster.
‘She’ll say “What a cute little doggie,” then go back to her work,’ said Prunella. ‘Mum’s not really interested in what I do,’ she added a bit sadly. ‘She
thinks being a detective is silly.’
‘But I’m not a cute little doggie. I’m a werewolf!’ protested Buster.
Prunella snorted. ‘You try telling that to my mum! On second thoughts, don’t!’
CHAPTER 7
The Search Begins
Prunella’s house smelled of ice cream, and detergent, and the bacon and eggs they’d had for breakfast. Buster’s mouth watered. Bacon and eggs weren’t as delicious as a nice smelly rat, or a bowl of fox terrier guts, but they were better than mashed broccoli and peanut butter.
Buster trod carefully over the polished kitchen floor. He hoped his claws wouldn’t slip.
‘In here,’ said Prunella, opening a door. ‘This is the family room.’
Buster sniffed it. There was no smell of mouse in here, or bacon and eggs either. Just more polish and the sort of fluffy carpet that no one had ever accidentally done that on, and two big sofas that looked to be the sort that you weren’t allowed to sit on, or you might leave fur on them, not to mention fleas.
‘What if your mum comes in?’ he asked.
‘She won’t,’ said Prunella shortly. ‘She’ll be in her study working. Mum doesn’t care what I do, as long as I’m quiet about it and don’t make a mess. Mum hates mess. And I’m messy all the time,’ she added.
‘What about your dad?’ asked Buster. He could smell a small lost space inside her when Prunella had talked about her mum.
‘He lives overseas,’ said Prunella, even more shortly. ‘He sends me Christmas presents when he remembers.’
‘Oh,’ said Buster. He couldn’t think of what else to say. He might have lost his parents, but at least they’d loved him. And his uncles and aunt all loved him too. Even Uncle Wal used to throw empty ice-cream cartons for him to snap out of the air and play human games like bury the football in the garden so no one can find it. Prunella smelled so sad when she talked about her mum!
Prunella interrupted his thoughts. ‘You use that phone, I’ll use the one over here,’ she said.
‘Um,’ said Buster.
Prunella sighed impatiently. ‘What?’ she demanded.
‘I can’t use a phone with paws!’ Buster pointed out. ‘I’ll have to Change back into a human. And if I Change back into a human I won’t have any clothes on again.’
‘I didn’t think of that.’ Prunella was blushing, Buster realised. ‘Um, how about I get you a towel so you can, um, cover yourself up?’
‘Good idea,’ said Buster.
Prunella was back a few seconds later. She handed Buster a big towel that smelled strongly of washing powder and sunlight.
‘Turn your back,’ said Buster.
‘Don’t worry,’ declared Prunella. ‘I don’t want to see anything till you’ve got that towel wrapped round you!’
Buster shut his eyes, nodded his head twice, then…
It was like an upside-down wriggle, with a sort of bump, bump, bump in between. He could feel his paws getting longer, his body getting shorter, and his tail vanishing somewhere up his backbone…
And he was a boy again.
The world lost nearly all its smell and most of its simplicity. Suddenly worry gripped him more and more, and all the possibilities crowded in, as well. What if Mum and Dad were hurt? What if they’d lost their memory?
Buster gulped. Prunella had to find them, he thought as he wrapped the towel around his waist. She had to!
Phoning was hard work. There seemed to be a million hospitals in the city, and police stations and dog pounds. Half the time there wasn’t even a person on the other end, just a computer voice that said, ‘press one if you want…and two if you want…’ and then gave a list that didn’t mention lost werewolves at all.
Finally Prunella put the phone down. ‘No one has heard of them,’ she said wearily. ‘Do you think…’ She broke off and stared at Buster. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Someone’s coming!’
‘It’ll be Mum! Quick, hide!’
‘There’s no time!’ Buster shut his eyes, nodded his head twice, then…
It was like a case of hiccups that started in his toes, with a sort of fidget on the way. He could feel his jaw getting shorter, his eyes getting further apart, and the towel dropping off as his body got lower and lower…
And he was a wolf again.
The world smelled sharp and much too clean. ‘Off the sofa!’ hissed Prunella. Buster jumped onto the floor just as someone opened the door.
Prunella’s mum smelled of soap and hand cream and computers. Buster couldn’t smell computers when he was human shaped, but as a wolf he could smell every chip and wire.
‘Prunella, darling?’ Prunella’s mum stepped into the room. ‘I thought I heard voices. Oh! What a cute little dog!’
‘Woof,’ said Buster, sitting on his haunches and letting his tongue hang out. He cocked his head to look as cute as possible. ‘Woof, woof wooffie, woof.’
‘I was…er…trying out different voices,’ said Prunella hurriedly. ‘In case I want to disguise myself for my detective business.’
Her mum blinked. ‘Your detective business. Oh yes, that. Darling, wouldn’t you rather, well, I don’t know, have ballet lessons? Or go horse riding over the holidays? All girls like horses, don’t they?’
Prunella’s jaw set. ‘I like being a detective.’
‘Yes, but…’ her mum sighed. She looked down at Buster again. ‘Darling, I know he’s a cute little dog, but I did say we couldn’t have one. Dogs are so messy and you know I’m allergic to dog hair.’
‘Woof, woof,’ said Buster, trying to look like a dog who’d never even thought of scratching his fur or sitting on the sofa.
‘It’s okay, Mum,’ said Prunella ‘He’s just…er…visiting.’
‘Oh, you mean he’s a friend’s dog and you’re looking after him?’
‘Just for the day,’ said Prunella. ‘In fact, just for the morning. It’s time I took him back now. Come on, Buster, walkies!’
‘Woof, woof, woof,’ said Buster sourly. It was bad enough to have to pretend to be a dog, not a wolf. But she didn’t have to talk baby talk to him!
‘Oh good.’ Buster could hear the relief in her mum’s voice.
‘And he hasn’t brushed any dog hair on the sofa,’ added Prunella bitterly.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure,’ said Prunella. ‘Here, boy!’ She whistled at Buster and clicked her fingers.
Buster leapt up off the floor and trotted up to her. He felt like biting her ankle, but decided against it. He needed her more than she needed him.
‘Woof, woof,’ he muttered, and followed Prunella out the door.
As soon as they were in the garden he looked around. No one was looking. ‘What were you playing at!’ he exploded. ‘What do you think I am? A shih-tzu?’
Prunella glared at him. ‘There’s no need to swear!’
‘I’m not swearing! A shih-tzu is a dog! And even if I was swearing you deserved it!’
‘What do you mean?’
‘All that “here boy!” stuff! And whistling! Whistling!’ repeated Buster furiously.
‘Well, you were supposed to be pretending to be a dog!’ said Prunella indignantly. ‘It’s normal to whistle at dogs.’
‘I’m not a dog. I’m a werewolf! We’re ferocious!’ Buster added angrily. ‘You know—fangs, dripping teeth.’
‘Well, shih-tzu to you, too! What was I supposed to say!’ demanded Prunella, fuming. ‘This is a ferocious werewolf, Mum. He’s my new client.’
‘No. Of course not! But nobody—nobody—whistles at werewolves! It’s werewolf rule number eight!’
‘Well, wacky-doo,’ said Prunella. ‘Look, buster,’ and Buster knew that it was ‘buster’ with a small ‘b’ again. ‘Let me tell you rule number one to being a detective. If you’re in disguise you stay in disguise. You were disguised as a dog. A “trying to look cute” little puppy dog. So I whistled.’
Buster cocked his head to one side and thought about it. It sounded a
lright, though he’d rather be in human form to think about it. It was easier to think about things when you were human.
‘Well, okay,’ he said reluctantly. He sat down to scratch an itch on his left shoulder, then said, ‘What do we do now?’
‘There’s only one thing we can do,’ said Prunella. ‘We have to go back to the scene of the crime!’
CHAPTER 8
Bum Sniffing
‘What crime?’ asked Buster.
Prunella sighed. ‘Look, your mum and dad wouldn’t have just left you. And they don’t sound dumb enough to get lost. And they didn’t have an accident either, because we’ve checked all the hospitals, vets and pounds. So that just leaves one thing!’
Buster tried to follow that thought with his wolf brain. ‘What?’
‘They must have been kidnapped.’
‘But they’re werewolves!’
‘Okay, wolfnapped! Honestly,’ exclaimed Prunella, ‘I’d have thought you’d have worked it out for yourself.’
Buster shook his head. ‘It never even occurred to me,’ he said, ‘or to Uncle Flea or Aunty Paws either. Kidnapping, I mean wolfnapping just isn’t part of a wolf’s world.’
‘But what about when you’re human?’
‘None of us are human much. Or we weren’t,’ he added bitterly. ‘Except for Uncle Wal.’
‘Then why didn’t Uncle Wal think of it? You said he drives a car! He must have wondered if your mum and dad vanished in a car.’
Buster tried to work it out. ‘Maybe. Maybe he was too busy being leader of the pack. It’s a big responsibility, being pack leader,’ he added.
‘Hmmm. I suppose.’ Prunella didn’t seem very convinced. ‘Well, come on, we’d better walk down to the shops. There’s a taxi rank there.’
Buster blinked. ‘Why?’
Prunella sighed. ‘So we can go to Werewolf Mountain—the scene of the crime—of course.’
‘Why can’t we phone for a cab?’
Wonderfully Wacky Families Page 3