by Sam Hay
“Er … well…” said Joe, staring in horror at Dumpling, who was now sniffing round Dad’s slippers as though he was about to have a nibble. “Don’t!” yelped Joe.
Dumpling rolled his eyes. “OK, OK.”
Dad frowned. “Don’t what? What are you talking about, Joe? And why do you keep looking at my feet?” Dad glanced down to see if he’d stepped in something.
Dumpling, meanwhile, waddled back into the bathroom and shimmied up the towel rail. “He can’t see me or hear me, Joe,” he squeaked. “Only you can. Look, I’ll show you!”
The hamster stuck out his tongue and blew an enormous wet raspberry at Dad.
Joe gasped. But Dad didn’t even blink.
“I haven’t got all day, Joe. When you’ve remembered what it was you wanted to say, come and find me.” Shaking his head, Dad left the bathroom.
Joe breathed a sigh of relief. “That wasn’t funny!” he hissed. “And now I’m in trouble over the sponge.”
Dumpling shrugged. “It’s not my fault. I keep telling you, I always eat when I’m worried.”
“Well, stop worrying!”
“I CAN’T! Not until I know Oliver is OK. The sooner you start helping me, the sooner I’ll stop eating and be out of your way. After all, it’s your duty as Keeper of the Amulet of Anubis!”
“Will you stop going on about that stupid amulet!” Joe scooped up the hamster and went back to his bedroom. He put Dumpling down on his desk, then got dressed as fast as he could.
“Stay out of trouble!” he said to the hamster, as he laced up his trainers and headed for the door. “I’m going to get rid of the amulet once and for all!”
When Joe returned to his room, Dumpling was waiting for him with a smug smile. “There’s no way round it, Joe – this is your duty! Are you going to help me now?”
Joe sighed. He didn’t seem to have much choice! He had tried everything. First, he dropped the amulet down a drain outside his house, but some workmen were cleaning the drains, and one of them saw Joe’s “accident” and fished the amulet out for him. Next, Joe buried it in the back garden, but next door’s cat dug it up and left it on their doorstep. Then he tried flushing it down the loo, but his little brother spotted it in the toilet bowl and fished it out for him!
But he wasn’t beaten yet. He raced back downstairs, sneaked into the dining room and turned on the computer. He wasn’t supposed to use it without telling his parents, but this was an emergency! He opened his mum’s email account and found Uncle Charlie’s address. His great-uncle didn’t check his email much – he didn’t usually have access to the internet on his travels – but it was worth a shot. Joe began to type…
Dear Uncle Charlie,
I made a wish on the amulet, but it’s gone a bit wrong! How do I undo the wish?
Please email or call soon.
Thanks!
Love, Joe
Just as Joe hit “send”, he heard a small voice saying “Joe… Joe…” and Dumpling clambered up on to the desk next to him.
Joe shook his head. There had to be a way to get out of this wish. Suddenly, another idea came to him: the internet! Of course! You could find out anything on the internet – there must be some information about the amulet somewhere.
“How do you spell ‘Anubis’?” asked Joe, opening the web browser.
Dumpling shrugged. So Joe just typed it how it sounded. Hundreds of search results popped up, lots of them about Anubis, the Egyptian god of the dead. But one in particular stood out:
The Legend of the Amulet of Anubis.
Joe clicked on the link. As the page loaded, he felt a surge of excitement; surely now he’d find a solution to his hamster problem. At the top of the page was a rough sketch of his amulet: black, shiny and jackal-shaped. And next to it there was a description…
The Legend
of the
Amulet of Anubis
The Amulet of Anubis is a stone carved in the likeness of Anubis, the jackal-headed Egyptian god of the dead. (Anubis is also known as the Conductor of the Souls or Keeper of the Dead.) Anubis was said to have invented the process of mummification, and he was worshipped as the protector of the dead. Legend says the amulet is endowed with special powers, granting the bearer a single wish; a wish that cannot be undone!
“Pants!” muttered Joe.
“Told you so!” said Dumpling smugly. “So, are you ready to help me now?”
But Joe didn’t get a chance to argue, because just then there was a shout of “Breakfast!” from the kitchen.
Joe scooped up the hamster and opened the desk drawer. Pushing aside pens, sticky tape and a hole punch, he shoved Dumpling inside. “Now, stay there and be quiet!” he said as he shut the drawer firmly. “And try not to eat anything. I’ll be back soon.”
“There you are, Joe,” said Mum. “It’s not like you to be the last one to the table. Certainly not when your dad’s cooking a fry-up!”
“Yeah, I was just …in the bathroom.”
“What do you want for breakfast, Joe?” called Dad, as he laid some rashers of bacon in the frying pan. “Toast and marmalade? Or the full monty: bacon, eggs and tomatoes?”
Joe’s mouth watered as he breathed in the smell of the frying bacon. “Toast and the full monty, please!”
He was just about to sit down when a little voice squeaked “WATCH OUT!” from the chair.
It was Dumpling.
Joe’s heart sank. “I told you to stay put!” he whispered, as Dumpling clambered up on to the table.
Sarah peered over the top of her magazine and raised an eyebrow at her brother. “Who are you talking to, twerp?”
“Oh, er …no one.”
“What’s for breakfast?” said Dumpling.
Joe sat down, glaring at the hamster. “Get off the table!”
Sarah put down her magazine. “Seriously, who are you talking to? Your imaginary friend?” she sniggered.
“I don’t have an imaginary friend!” Joe snapped.
“I keep telling you, they can’t see or hear me,” said Dumpling. “Look.”
To Joe’s horror, Dumpling waddled across the table towards Sarah and jumped up and down, raising a dust cloud around him. Sarah carried on reading, totally oblivious to the zombie hamster leaping round the table.
“There you are, Joe,” said Mum, handing him a plate of toast spread with her homemade marmalade. Joe’s tummy rumbled – his favourite! But as he reached for the toast, Dumpling made a dive for it, too, and it quickly began to disappear.
“Slow down, Joe!” laughed Dad, as he returned to the table with a plate of bacon and eggs for Sarah. “You’ve eaten half your toast in ten seconds flat!”
“Maybe his imaginary friend is helping him,” Sarah said, with a smirk.
“Come on, Sarah,” said Dad. “Leave your brother alone.”
Joe scowled at his sister. She was almost as much of a pain as Dumpling, who was now licking marmalade off his sticky paws.
The hamster turned to Joe. “So, shall we get started on finding Oliver?”
“I’m not going to help you!” Joe hissed.
“He’s doing it again,” said Sarah. “Did you hear him, Dad? He’s talking to himself like a five-year-old!”
Toby, who was six, and had been happily talking to himself for the last ten minutes, made a face at her. So did Joe. But before the row could erupt properly, Mum came over to the table. Then her nose twitched, her eyes watered – and she sneezed loudly! “Has next door’s cat been in here?” she said, rubbing her eyes
Dad shook his head.
“Perhaps Joe’s imaginary friend is making you sneeze, Mum,” said Sarah. “Maybe he’s a big hairy collie dog.”
If only! thought Joe. But then it occurred to him – maybe Sarah wasn’t too far from the truth… Could it be Dumpling setting Mum’s allergies off? She couldn’t see him, but could she somehow sense him?
Mum’s eyes were streaming now, and her nose had turned red. Joe had to get Dumpling as far away from
her as possible. He picked up the hamster and stuffed him in his pocket (much to Dumpling’s annoyance).
“Here we are!” said Dad, handing Joe a plate. “One full monty!”
“Sorry, Dad, I can’t eat any more. I feel a bit sick after eating the toast so quickly. You have it,” he said. Joe leaped to his feet and dashed to his bedroom before Dad could stop him.
“I’ve had to miss breakfast because of you!” he muttered, dropping Dumpling on to his desk.
Dumpling huffed. “If you’d just listen, I would explain why I need your help.”
“Right!” snapped Joe. “I’m listening now.”
Dumpling was quiet for a moment, and then he began…
“It’s all very sad,” said Joe. “But I still don’t see how I can help you.”
Dumpling plucked a pencil out of Joe’s desk tidy and nibbled it. “It’s Oliver I want you to help. I don’t think he knows it was his mum who left my cage open.” Dumpling gnawed harder. “He must be wondering how it happened. And he’ll be so, so lonely without me – it’s already been a week since the accident.”
Joe frowned. “So you want me to make sure Oliver is OK? That’s it?”
The hamster nodded.
“Do you know where he lives?”
“No, but the badge on his school bag looks just like yours.”
“You think he goes to my school?” Joe racked his brains for any Olivers he knew. “I think Toby has a friend called Oliver…”
Dumpling suddenly brightened. “That might be him! I know, tomorrow I’ll come to school with you and point him out.”
“Maybe…” said Joe, who wasn’t sure he wanted to take Dumpling to school.
But Dumpling was happy (for the moment, anyway). He yawned, emptied out the rest of the pencils from the desk tidy, and climbed inside it. “Tomorrow we’ll go to school,” he said sleepily. “And we’ll see Oliver and make sure he’s all right…” His eyes began to close. And then, as though someone had pressed a “sleep” button, Dumpling was suddenly snoring.
Joe sighed. Hamsters! Up all night, asleep all day! Dogs were definitely much better pets. He tiptoed out of his room and back downstairs to see if there was any bacon left.
Thankfully, Joe saw very little of Dumpling for the rest of the day. Dad took him and Toby swimming while Mum and Sarah went shopping, and later they all met up for tea at his grandparents’ house.
It was past seven o’clock when they got home. Dumpling was waiting for Joe in his room. The hamster was wide awake and excited.
“I can’t wait to see Oliver tomorrow!” he said, dancing across the desk towards Joe. “Once I’ve made sure he’s all right, I’ll be able to pass over to the afterlife.” He twirled and whirled … until he reached the edge of the desk and fell off into Joe’s bin.
“OK, OK, I’ll take you to school,” said Joe, trying not to laugh as he fished Dumpling out. “Just try to keep the noise down tonight. I need to get some sleep before school. And don’t eat any of my stuff!”
Dumpling crossed his heart. “Thank you! Thank you! I’ll be good, I promise.”
And he was, sort of. While Joe slept, Dumpling amused himself in one of Joe’s drawers by building himself a den. (He only nibbled a couple of socks.) Then he explored the wardrobe and found lots of boxes and board games. (He only swallowed two dice and three chess pieces.) And then there was Joe’s sport’s bag to rummage in, where he found an old apple core and a banana skin that kept him going until dawn.
By the time Joe woke up the next morning, Dumpling had dozed off in his sock-drawer den. Joe had just enough time to get dressed, eat his breakfast and check his mum’s email for a reply from Uncle Charlie (there wasn’t one) before the peace was disturbed. Joe was in the hall putting on his shoes for school when there was a big banana-scented BURP! in his ear.
“Is it time to find Oliver?” said Dumpling, clambering into Joe’s school bag.
Joe nodded, then whispered, “Just stay in there and keep quiet. And don’t eat my packed lunch, OK?”
Once Toby was ready, he and Joe set off for school. They hadn’t even got to the end of the street before Dumpling started moaning.
“Can’t you walk any faster?” he squeaked, poking his head out of the bag. “Hurry up! We need to find Oliver! QUICK!”
Joe gritted his teeth. “Shut up!”
“Who are you talking to, Joe?” asked Toby.
But Joe didn’t have to reply because his best mate Matt appeared. He waited for them at the corner of their street every morning.
“Hey.” Matt grinned. “Good weekend?”
Joe made a face. “I’ve had better!”
Joe ignored Dumpling for the rest of the journey, and chatted to Matt about computer games.
As they turned into the school gates, Dumpling suddenly let out a loud squeak. “There he is! There’s Oliver! The boy in the green coat, playing football!” And then, after a pause, he added in a small, disappointed voice, “The boy who is laughing and joking … and doesn’t look sad at all.”
Joe scanned the playground and spotted Oliver. “Hey, Toby, is that your friend Oliver?”
“Where? Over there? Yeah, that’s him.”
“Do you know him well?” Joe asked, trying to sound casual.
“I’m going to his house after school tomorrow.” said Toby. “Why?”
But just then the school bell went, and Joe dashed off to his classroom.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered to Dumpling, as he stuffed his bag under his desk. “I’ll go and find Oliver at breaktime.”
But Dumpling couldn’t wait that long. He needed to know why Oliver wasn’t sad! As soon as the lesson had begun and Joe was distracted, he climbed out of the bag and waddled off.
It was gone ten o’clock before Joe spotted that Dumpling was missing.
“Oh no!” he muttered, looking round the room. Joe could imagine what mischief Dumpling would be getting up to. He sighed. Somehow he’d have to get out of class and try to find him.
“Excuse me, Miss Bruce,” he said, putting up his hand. “Can I go to the toilet?”
His teacher peered over the top of her spectacles. “Can’t you wait until breaktime?”
Joe crossed his legs and pulled a face. “No! I’m desperate! I think I might wet my pants.”
This made everyone laugh. Well, everyone except Miss Bruce, but she let him go anyway.
Luckily, Dumpling had left a tiny trail of dusty footprints. Joe followed them down the corridor, past two classrooms and the boys’ toilets, until they disappeared into the kitchens. Joe swallowed hard. Pupils weren’t allowed in there, but he had to find Dumpling! He slipped inside, darting behind a tower of trays as two dinner ladies appeared.
“I don’t understand it,” one was saying. “I left two dozen jam fingers on the side, and now six of them have disappeared!”
Joe rolled his eyes: DUMPLING! But there was still no sign of him. Then Joe spotted the footprints again, now with jammy edges! They led out the other side of the kitchen, through another door. Crouching down so the dinner ladies wouldn’t see him, Joe sneaked through the kitchen and followed the trail, out of the door, past the girls’ toilets and the cleaners’ cupboard to where it ended, right outside the headmaster’s office. Surely Dumpling hadn’t gone in there?
Joe took a deep breath and knocked. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say – Excuse me, sir, please may I have my zombie hamster back? – but luckily, there was no answer. Joe pushed open the door and looked around. The office was empty. “Dumpling? Are you in here?” he whispered.
And then Joe spotted him, fast asleep on the desk – inside the headmaster’s lunchbox! Scattered around him were the remains of a packed lunch: an apple core, some sandwich crumbs and a strawberry yoghurt pot, licked clean. Dumpling had eaten the lot!
“Dumpling!” Joe yelped. “What have you done!” He raced across the room, and grabbed the sleepy hamster. “Wake up!”
“Joe Edmunds! What are you doing in he
re?”
Joe gasped. Mr Hill, the headmaster, stood in the doorway, his face like thunder.
Joe gulped. “Er … well, you see, sir, I spotted a mouse in the corridor, and it ran under your door. I knocked, but you weren’t in, so I decided to come in and try to catch it… But I think it must have eaten your lunch.”
Mr Hill did not say a word.
Joe could tell that the headteacher was not in the mood for listening to tall tales. “Honestly, sir, it’s true,” he said weakly.
Mr Hill crossed his arms, unimpressed. “I was only gone for five minutes, and even if there was a small rodent in my office, which I very much doubt, it couldn’t eat an entire packed lunch in that time!”
You don’t know what an undead hamster’s capable of! Joe thought gloomily.
Mr Hill gave Joe a stern look: “Joe Edmunds, taking – or eating – other people’s property is wrong. You can stay inside at breaktime and think about your behaviour!”
Joe shuffled back to the classroom with his head down. “I can’t believe you got me into trouble again!” he muttered to Dumpling, who was stuffed inside his shirt pocket.
“I was only looking for Oliver,” whined the hamster. “When I couldn’t find him I got worried, and you know how hungry I get when I worry.”
Joe rolled his eyes and wished for the hundredth time he’d never set eyes on Uncle Charlie’s amulet.
By the end of morning break, the whole school knew about the lunchbox incident. And, to make things worse, Miss Bruce gave Joe extra homework as punishment! Dumpling had nodded off in Joe’s bag, but the lunch bell woke him up and he started wriggling around impatiently.
“There’s Oliver!” squeaked Dumpling, as soon as they went into the dinner hall.
Joe took a deep breath. Talking to Oliver without his friends thinking he’d gone crazy was not going to be easy. Older children never ate lunch with the younger kids. Joe saw Matt and his other mates wave to him from their usual table. He waved back, but kept on walking. He went over to where Toby and Oliver were sitting with a couple of other boys and pulled up a chair. “Hi,” he said, feeling very silly.