by Lou Kuenzler
Dad looked up from fiddling with the new fancy toaster he had bought. It was supposed to make toast. At the moment, all it was doing was shooting out slices of burnt black charcoal every two minutes.
“Here’s a good clue,” he said, fanning away a plume of thick grey smoke. He started to sing a funny little tune.
Dad is always off key, so this was hopeless.
“You look like you can’t make head nor tail of it,” he chuckled.
“Head nor tail?” Was that another clue? My heart was pounding. “Is it ‘How Much Is That Doggy in the Window’?” I tried.
“Nope.” Dad was grinning from ear to ear … until the smoke alarm starting and he had to climb on a chair to switch it off.
“Mum? Give me a proper clue,” I shouted over the blaring alarm. “No singing!”
“OK.” Mum paused with a slice of grapefruit halfway to her mouth. “I know… There’ll be two of you.”
“And a bit of a walk,” smiled Dad, climbing down from the chair.
Two of us? Walking? I grabbed a slice of charcoal-black toast. I was hoping the taste of something horrible would stop me getting overexcited. I sprinkled pepper all over the top of it, too.
“Violet?” said Mum. “What are you doing? You’ve been acting very strangely lately.”
“Just … eating breakfast,” I said truthfully as I took a BIG bite.
I couldn’t shrink.
Not now.
Uncle Max would be here in less than two hours!
As soon as breakfast was over, I sat in the front window waiting.
I wrote in my notepad (I had got the spelling wrong in my test last week, so it was back on the list again).
I have practised my spellings so many times, but it was a brilliant, boring way to make sure I didn’t shrink.
I’m always excited when Uncle Max comes to visit – it had been a month since I had seen him, at least. Although he is Dad’s little brother, they are nothing alike. Uncle Max is a total daredevil. I call him He writes travel books and he’s been on and trips around the world – he’s probably been to even more cool places than a wild celebrity adventurer like Stella Lightfoot.
Whenever he’s here, we always do something Last time we made a home-made gun and he took me paintballing in the woods. The time before was when we had the sponsored jumpathon on Nisha’s trampoline. kept bouncing until midnight so that we would raise enough money to adopt Boris, the endangered wolf cub.
“That’ll have to keep you going until I’m allowed to get you a real dog,” he’d laughed on the phone, when the certificate and stuffed toy had arrived.
I wrote as a car turned into our street. I looked up, hoping it would be Uncle Max’s battered green jeep. But it wasn’t. It was a shiny blue car. It looked brand new. Not a speck of dust anywhere. A little toy lamb was swinging from the mirror in the front windscreen.
I smiled to myself and turned back to my spellings.
Uncle Max would never drive a car like that. His jeep has a big plastic bat hanging from the mirror. It doesn’t even have any doors – just bits of green canvas. He wears a crazy driving hat with corks hanging off it that he brought back from Australia.
I wrote.
I glanced up.
The blue car was stopping outside our house.
The driver got out. Probably going next door. I giggled to myself as I noticed he was wearing a pale blue suit the same colour as the shiny car.
A woman in a matching blue dress climbed out of the passenger side.
The driver turned around and took a step towards our house.
I gasped. “Uncle Max?” My eyes nearly popped out of my head.
But it couldn’t be him… Surely not? This man was the same height as Uncle Max. He had the same crooked nose, where he’d broken it falling off an elephant in India. The same sandy blond hair… But instead of a long shaggy mop, it was cut short and neat, oiled flat against his head. His wild beard was gone too, leaving a small, thin moustache … and he was wearing a flowery pink tie.
“Goodness,” said Mum, who had come up behind me and was peering over my shoulder. “Doesn’t Max look smart?”
She tapped the window.
Uncle Max looked up and waved. The shiny blue woman waved too. She was very short with big blonde hair and she wobbled on a pair of very very blue high-heeled shoes. She squeezed Max’s arm and giggled.
“That must be Bunny,” said Mum. “Max’s special lady.”
Special lady? What did that mean?
“Max was right,” cooed Mum. “She is adorable. Come on, Violet. Let’s go and say hello.”
“Adorable?” I stared out of the window with my mouth wide open.
As Mum went to the door, I stood on tiptoe to take a better look at the parked car outside. There didn’t seem to be any sign of a puppy … not even a muddy paw print on the pale blue leather seats.
“Come on in,” said Mum, in the hall.
I heard a laugh which must have been Bunny’s and that strange lip-sucking noise grown-ups make when they kiss each other in mid-air.
“Violet!” cried Uncle Max, bounding into the lounge. “There you are.”
He charged forward with his hand raised ready for a high five.
“Wow, Maxi. You’re so good with kids,” giggled Bunny, clip-clopping in behind him. Mum, Dad and Tiffany followed her.
“Oh, not really.” Uncle Max looked at Bunny and blushed. He dropped his hand and straightened his tie as if he hadn’t been planning on doing a high five at all.
“Er … have you been working hard at school, Violet?” he said.
I punched him playfully in the stomach. “Honestly, Uncle Max. What sort of question is that?”
Tiffany sniggered.
“School is very important! You can … well, you can learn all sorts of lessons there,” said Bunny. She grabbed me by both hands. “But I am not going to be strict Auntie Bunny. You and I shall be great friends.”
Auntie Bunny? Who did she think she was? I’d only met her a few seconds ago.
“I don’t have any aunties,” I said.
“Not yet,” she and pinched my cheek. “Maxi told me you were cute.”
Cute? I stuck out my chin and put my hands on my hips.
“Really cute,” said Bunny, sounding a little less sure. “That’s why we’ve got a big surprise for you. Haven’t we, Maxi, my sweet?”
“Yes?” Uncle Max nodded his head. He looked like one of those silly wobbly toy dogs people have in the back of their cars.
“A surprise?” I said. My fingers were crossed tight behind my back. Uncle Max didn’t actually have a puppy with him, but perhaps we were all going to pile into the pale blue car and drive to a kennel somewhere. Perhaps it was a rescue pup from the animal charity, like I’d seen on the leaflet. That was just the sort of thing Uncle Max would do.
“It’s a very special surprise,” said Mum.
“You see, Bunny is my fiancée,” said Uncle Max.
“Wow! Congratulations!” screamed Tiffany, jumping up and down as if it was the most exciting thing she had ever heard.
Mum beamed. “We’re so pleased for you both.”
“Lucky man, Max,” winked Dad.
“Fiancée?” I gasped.
“It means they’re engaged,” said Tiffany. “They’re going to get married, stupid.”
“I know what fiancée means,” I said.
sang Dad. And, as everyone else joined in, I recognized the wedding tune.
“And…” said Uncle Max.
“We want you to be our bridesmaid,” grinned Bunny.
“Bridesmaid?” This was the BIG surprise … the special treat Mum and Dad had been whispering about for days.
“Don’t look so worried,” smiled Uncle Max.
“I’ve asked m
y little niece, too,” said Bunny. “So there’ll be two of you.”
“And it’s only a short walk up the aisle,” grinned Uncle Max.
Of course! Two of us. A short walk. Now everything made sense…
Uncle Max wasn’t getting me a puppy. I could see that now.
As the grown-ups hugged one another, I slipped out to the kitchen.
I put away the water bowl I had filled. I folded the sheets of newspaper I had laid down in case my secret-surprise pup wasn’t house-trained yet. And I picked up the fluffy towel I had rolled out as a bed.
Uncle Max was getting married! That was the big surprise.
I hardly recognized him any more. It was as if Bunny had waved a secret magic wand and turned him into someone completely different … someone and blue and
But a flame of hope flickered inside me. This was still Uncle Max we were talking about – cool, crazy .
I rushed back to the lounge.
“Is the wedding somewhere amazing?” I cried. “Is it on top of a mountain?”
Everyone was gathered around Bunny, peering at a pale blue scrapbook.
“Is it skydiving from a plane? Or underwater in a submarine?” I could see it now! Daredevil Max would from a glider. I’d have to skydive too, holding on to Bunny’s veil and a bunch of flowers.
Amazing!
Or perhaps I’d follow them down a mountain on a snowboard. My bridesmaid dress wouldn’t need to have any frills at all. It probably wouldn’t even be a dress. It’d be a special bridesmaid wetsuit with deep-sea-diving oxygen tank. Or flying goggles with a parachute suit and…
“Er.” Uncle Max looked down at his shiny blue shoes. “Bunny is in charge of most of the wedding arrangements,” he said.
“I’ve chosen Bunny grinned.
“Is that on top of a mountain?” I said hopefully.
“No, silly! It’s by the big roundabout on the edge of town,” laughed Bunny. “I’ve picked the Dingley Dell wedding theme. They decorate the whole ceiling with gorgeous There are green rubber mats which look exactly like Plus over two thousand plastic and trees.”
“Wow,” said Dad. “It sounds … er … almost as good as a real field.”
“Better,” said Bunny. “There’s no mud. And they play a recording of real birdsong and a babbling brook.”
“Lovely!” said Mum, smiling as hard as she could. “I’m sure it’ll be … wonderful … and … er … very … clean.”
“Exactly,” said Bunny. “I’ve been planning a Dingley Dell wedding for years. You see, my ex-boyfriend, Tarquin, was allergic to pollen. So we could never have got married outside because of his hay fever…”
“But you’re not marrying this Tarquin, whoever he is,” I blurted out. “Uncle Max doesn’t have hay fever. You could marry him in a real field and— ”
Mum poked me in the ribs.
“I’m sure you have wonderful ideas about what everyone is going to wear, Bunny?” she said, smiling harder than ever. “Have you given any thought to Violet’s bridesmaid dress?”
“Oh yes! I knew what Vi looked like from the photos Maxi showed me.” Bunny held up the shiny blue book.
it said in turquoise writing across the front.
“I’ve chosen a shepherdess theme,” she smiled.
Bunny opened the book and we all stared down at a drawing of a bridesmaid with a short brown bob haircut and freckles. I think it was supposed to be me.
The girl in the picture was wearing a frilly blue dress with big puffy sleeves and blue lace petticoats. A shiny blue bonnet with shiny blue ribbons perched on her head. She was carrying a shepherdess crook with a big blue bow. It was worse than anything I could have imagined.
“Wow,” laughed Tiffany. “I never thought I’d see Violet looking like that.”
“I don’t think anyone ever thought they’d see Violet looking like that!” snorted Dad.
“I think it’s … adorable,” said Mum. “She’ll look like Little Bo Peep from the nursery rhyme.”
“Exactly,” I mumbled. “That’s the problem.”
Mum poked me in the ribs again.
“” Being a bridesmaid at this wedding was definitely NOT going to be fun.
Bunny left me a copy of the bridesmaid picture so that I could look at it whenever I wanted to … which was . But I did show it to Nisha when she came round for a sleepover that afternoon.
“Oh Violet.” Nisha’s big brown eyes twinkled with laughter. “You’re going to look so … so…”
She couldn’t seem to find the right word.
“So…”
“Ridiculous?” I asked.
“No…” I could see the corner of Nisha’s mouth moving upwards. “You’re going to look so … frilly!” she giggled, helplessly.
“Thanks a lot,” I groaned. This was not turning into a good weekend. First my dreams of getting a puppy were smashed. Now my kindest, loveliest friend had collapsed in fits of laughter at the thought of me in that Little Bo bridesmaid dress.
“It’s so unfair,” I groaned, throwing a cushion at her. “You looked gorgeous at your uncle’s wedding. You got to wear that beautiful yellow sari.”
“And you’ll look gorgeous too. Really,” said Nisha, trying to sound like she meant it.
“Rubbish!” I snatched the picture out of her hand and stomped out of the house. “There’s only one place for this and that’s the dustbin.”
“Stop!” Nisha grabbed the back of my T-shirt. She tried to pull me back towards her. “Don’t throw it away.”
“Only because you want to laugh,” I said.
As Nisha tugged me in one direction, I grabbed hold of the top of the paper recycling bin and tugged in the other.
The paper bin came toppling down and Nisha and I fell to the ground amongst piles of cardboard and old magazines.
“Look,” cooed Nisha. “What a cute kitten.”
She was staring down at the crumpled advertisement for
“The sheepdog puppy is adorable, too,” she said.
But I wasn’t looking at the picture. I was staring at the writing.
I understood what it meant now. wanted people to go along and help look after the animals.
“But this is brilliant!” I exclaimed, flinging my arms around Nisha’s neck. “Why didn’t I think of it before?” I flapped the leaflet under her nose. “I am a genius.
“Have you thought of a plan so you won’t have to wear that horrible bridesmaid dress?”
“Better than that,” I said, jumping to my feet. “This is the next stage of Operation Get a Dog … and this time it won’t fail.”
I started to cartwheel down the path but stopped myself mid-spring.
“At least, I think it’s quite a good plan,” I shrugged casually. I had to stay calm. This was NOT the time to get overexcited. Whatever happened, I didn’t want to shrink now.
I stuffed armfuls of cardboard back into the bin. “Let’s go inside,” I said, holding tight to the advert. My heart was pounding like a drum.
The leaflet had given me a idea. Uncle Max was too busy getting married to think about getting me a puppy. But it didn’t mean I had to give up on a dog altogether.
“Listen, Nish,” I said as we flopped down on the sofa. But as soon as I tried to tell her my plan, I could feel excitement jiggling inside me. It was like little bits of popcorn waiting to explode.
“Are you all right?” said Nish. “Why do you keep pinching your leg like that?”
“Oh … er … pins and needles,” I said.
“Now you’re pinching your ear,” she said. “You’re being really odd today, Violet.”
This was hopeless. I have wished a million-zillion times that I could tell Nisha about my shrinking. Imagine the fun we could have. I could ride in her pocket and we could go on mini adventures. She coll
ects china fairy people. I know she’d love to pretend I was a little elf or something. But that’s the tricky part about keeping things you can’t tell anyone. Not even your very best friend.
“Hold on a minute,” I said, dashing to the kitchen. “I fancy a raw onion. Do you want one?”
“No thank you,” Nisha spluttered. “Have you gone mad?”
“They’re delicious,” I said, plonking myself on the sofa again. I peeled off the brown skin and took a big bite.
“Just like an apple,” I lied, turning away so she couldn’t see my whole face scrunch up.
If I could manage to munch my way through an entire bitter onion, I might be able to tell Nisha my exciting plan without shrinking.
“Stage Two of Operation Get a Dog is incredibly and incredibly simple,” I said, taking another nose-tingling bite. I smoothed out the advertisement on the coffee table. I couldn’t actually see it because my eyes were streaming with
“Oh Vi,” said Nisha, putting her arms around me. “Are you crying because of the poor stray dogs in the rescue centre?”
“No. It’s the onion,” I sniffed.
“You really are crazy.” Nisha burst into a fit of laughter.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, laughing too. “But please, just listen to my plan.”
Nisha nodded.
“ needs volunteers to help them,” I said. “It’ll be jobs like cleaning cages, and walking and feeding the animals. If I go weekend, I’ll get to spend loads of time with the dogs.”
“Sounds amazing,” agreed Nisha, handing me a tissue to wipe my eyes.
“And … even more than that,” I said, “Mum and Dad will see how utterly, completely responsible I am. They’ll have to let me get a puppy then.”
Nisha clapped her hands. “Can I come along, too?”
“Of course you can!” I dropped the onion and spun Nisha around the room, forgetting to keep calm.
hoping you’d come! It’s going to be totally brilliant.”