‘Maybe they build underground bunkers,’ I hazarded. ‘Remember they wanted to lock me up?’
‘It’s a disgrace. I’m going to tell Dr Passlow. He should be warned.’
She went on and on until at last we pulled into Amin’s driveway. Amin lives quite near us, in a two-storeyed brick house so huge that it doesn’t have much of a garden. There’s a patch of grass out the front, and a patio with grape vines down the back, but the rest is all house. It has to be, because Amin has eight brothers and sisters, plus a live-in grandmother. With a family that big, you need at least five bedrooms (plus three bathrooms, an industrial-sized laundry, and a two-car garage).
It’s no wonder Mrs Kairouz doesn’t work. Running that house must be a full-time job. But she doesn’t seem to mind – or to care how many extra children are running around. In fact, I used to spend most of my school holidays with Amin. And even though I’m old enough to look after myself now, I still end up at his house once in a while. Especially if I’m feeling sick.
Not that I was sick that particular Thursday morning. But Mum had come to the conclusion that I was still ‘convalescing’, so she had appealed to Mrs Kairouz for help. That’s why I found myself standing on Amin’s doorstep, ringing his doorbell as Mum waited in the car. That’s also why she wouldn’t leave until Amin had ushered me over his threshold. She was probably worried that if I had to stand in the sun for too long, I might keel over.
But the sight of Amin reassured her. She beeped her farewell before reversing back into the street.
‘Fergus is here,’ was the first thing Amin said to me, once we were both inside. ‘Just as well, or I wouldn’t even know what happened. Why didn’t you answer my messages?’
‘Because I figured that Fergus would tell you everything. He usually does.’ I decided not to comment on Amin’s geeky Pokemon T-shirt. Like Fergus, Amin tends to wear hand-me-downs; the clothes in the Kairouz family keep getting recycled until they practically fall apart, so I recognised Amin’s T-shirt, which had once belonged to his brother Rayan. It didn’t fit very well because Amin’s a lot fatter than Rayan used to be. That’s one reason why Amin cops a lot of abuse from bullies at bus stops, though it’s not the only reason. There’s something about Amin that brings out the worst in brainless kids. Maybe it’s his high voice or his dimples. Maybe it’s his doggy brown eyes.
‘Is your mum babysitting or what?’ I asked, as a tornado of little kids burst into the hallway, nearly drowning my voice. (There seemed to be more of them than usual.) ‘I don’t remember that bald one from last time.’
Amin grimaced.
‘My cousins are here,’ he replied. ‘We should go upstairs before we get trampled.’
So we went upstairs together, retreating from the chaos on the ground floor. Luckily, Amin’s older brothers weren’t home; this meant that he had full custody of a bedroom that he normally has to share. In fact the entire top floor was pretty quiet, for a change. We didn’t even have to fight our way past gaggles of teenage girls.
‘Fergus said you had an epileptic fit,’ Amin remarked, following me into his room. ‘But I still don’t understand how you ended up in that dingo pen.’
‘Neither do I.’ Having spotted Fergus on Amin’s bed, I launched straight into my weirdo-invasion story. ‘You’re not going to believe who came to my house, last night. Fergus? Are you listening? You’re not going to believe this.’
‘Hang on.’ Fergus was hunched over Amin’s Nintendo. ‘Wait – just wait—’
‘Who was it?’ said Amin. ‘Not the guy from the wildlife park?’
‘No. Better than that.’
‘Who?’
‘A Catholic priest,’ I replied. Then, when I saw that Fergus wasn’t even listening, I added, ‘Oh – and a werewolf. Don’t let’s forget the werewolf.’
Amin gasped. Fergus raised his head. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he said.
‘I told you. A priest came to visit, and he brought a werewolf with him.’ I was enjoying the impact I’d made. ‘Not that this guy looked like a werewolf. He looked just like a regular guy. But he said he was a werewolf.’
‘Are you joking?’ Fergus asked suspiciously.
‘Nuh.’
‘Someone came to your house and told you he was a werewolf?’
‘That’s right.’ I nodded. ‘He also told me that I’m a werewolf. So you’d better watch out, Fergus. Don’t mess with the werewolf, bud.’
I’d been saving the best for last, and it was fantastic. Fergus almost dropped his Nintendo. Amin gave a squeak. Then Fergus recovered enough to drawl, ‘Yeah, right.’
‘It’s true.’
Fergus snorted.
‘He left me his card.’ I pulled it out of my pocket. ‘See? That’s him. Reuben Schneider. And the priest was called Father Ramon Alvarez.’
As I’d expected, the card was proof enough. Even Fergus wavered. To study it, he had to put down his Nintendo.
Amin gazed at me, round-eyed.
‘Why would anyone think you’re a werewolf?’ he wanted to know.
So I told him. I told the entire story, in such detail that it must have taken me at least ten minutes. By the end of it, we were all huddled together on Amin’s bed, bouncing with excitement.
‘Oh man,’ Fergus kept saying. ‘Oh, man. Oh, man.’
‘But the strange thing is, he was right.’ I saw Amin’s jaw drop. ‘Not about being a werewolf, dummy!’ I snapped. ‘About my hair. And my nose. And my reflexes.’
‘You do have really quick reflexes,’ Amin gravely confirmed.
‘I know. It’s weird, isn’t it?’
‘Maybe you are a werewolf,’ Fergus joked.
‘Ha ha.’
‘God, I’d love to be a werewolf,’ said Amin. His tone was wistful. ‘Can you imagine how cool that would be? No one would ever mess with you in a million years.’
‘Yeah, but I’m not one. Okay?’
‘I know. I’m just saying.’
‘You should call him.’ Fergus looked up from the card in his hand. ‘Why don’t you?’
‘Huh?’
‘Why don’t you give this werewolf a call? I wanna hear what else he says.’
I recoiled. ‘Oh, no.’
‘Go on.’
‘No.’
‘It’ll be fun!’ Fergus insisted. ‘It’ll be great!’
I shook my head.
‘He won’t mind,’ Fergus pointed out. ‘He asked you to call him, remember?’
‘So what?’
‘Toby, this isn’t just your average nut, okay? He’s a once-in-a-lifetime loony. We can’t miss a chance like this.’ Fergus appealed to Amin. ‘Don’t you wanna know what’s going on?’
Amin nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Come on, Tobe. I dare you. Come on – it’s not like there’s anything else to do around here.’
As I said before, whatever Fergus wants, he gets. He’s unsquashable. In the end he made me feel like such a killjoy that I couldn’t argue, because I couldn’t admit to being scared – not even to myself. And certainly not to Fergus.
Fergus wasn’t scared. He almost never is.
‘Your mum won’t find out,’ he assured me. ‘She wouldn’t listen to this werewolf guy – you said so yourself. She doesn’t want anything to do with him.’
‘I’m not worried about my mum.’ What did he think I was, a two-year-old? ‘I just don’t know what to tell him, that’s all.’
‘Tell him you want proof,’ Fergus suggested. ‘Tell him you want a photo.’
‘He doesn’t have any photos, remember? Because he always tears the camera apart.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Fergus sniffed. ‘A likely story.’
‘Tell him you want a sample,’ Amin butted in. ‘Like a tooth or a hair. Or werewolf poo.’
‘Tell him you want to do a school project.’
‘Ask him if he’s got a website.’
‘Hey – no – you should ask him if he’ll come and give a talk to your biology
class!’
By this time the two of them were writhing with amusement. Fergus was snickering and Amin was giggling and even I could see the funny side of it all – though my own smile was a little lopsided.
‘He’s not a complete psycho, Fergus,’ I growled. ‘He’s gunna know it’s the summer holidays.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I was only joking.’ Fergus lapsed into thought. ‘Okay, how about this?’ he said at last. ‘You ring him and you ask for proof. Physical proof. And we’ll see what he comes up with.’
‘A claw would be good,’ Amin elaborated.
‘Or a paw print.’
‘Or a dna test on werewolf spit . . .’
They wouldn’t let up. I finally had to key in that number, or there would have been hell to pay. They would never have let me forget it.
Reuben Schneider answered on the second ring.
‘Hello?’
‘Oh – ah . . .’ I grimaced at Fergus, because he was breathing down my neck. ‘Is this Reuben?’
‘Speaking.’
‘This is Toby. Vandevelde. From last night.’
There was a brief pause. Fergus gave me a thumbs-up, flashing his teeth and waggling his eyebrows.
‘Oh, yeah?’ Reuben sounded cautious. ‘Okay.’
‘Can I talk to you?’
‘Sure.’
‘About werewolves?’
‘Any time.’ He waited. I waited. At last he said, ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Um . . . well . . .’ I covered the mouthpiece, so flustered that I couldn’t think straight. ‘What do we want to know?’ I mouthed at Fergus.
He rolled his eyes impatiently.
‘We want proof!’ he whispered.
‘Oh, yeah.’ I cleared my throat, then addressed the phone again. ‘You have to show me proof. How can I believe you, otherwise? I need proof.’
Reuben grunted.
‘Right,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Yeah. I don’t blame you.’ After a moment’s hesitation, he added, ‘Is your mum there?’
‘No.’ I was pushing Fergus away, as Amin mimed at me. ‘She’s at work.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Have you got any evidence? Like . . . um . . . paw prints? Or a tooth, or something? I know you said you didn’t have photos—’
‘Listen.’ Reuben raised his voice over a metallic screech in the background. I couldn’t tell if it was machinery or car-brakes or even a bird of some sort. ‘I’ve been wondering why no one saw you the other night. You musta been wondering about that yourself, eh?’
‘Yeah. I guess.’ Actually, I hadn’t. I’d just figured that the whole of Doonside must have been in bed asleep.
‘I’ve been looking at my street directory,’ Reuben continued, ‘and I think I know where you musta gone. I think you went to that big reserve near your house. The one with the lake in it.’
‘Nurragingy?’
‘That’s the one.’ Reuben’s tone warmed up a little. ‘If you were running around in there, you wouldn’t have been in people’s gardens, killing pet guinea pigs. Whatever you did wouldn’t have been very obvious.’
‘How do you mean, killing pet guinea pigs?’ I repeated, so Fergus could hear. He nudged Amin, who smothered a gurgle of delight. ‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘Because they’re edible,’ Reuben rejoined. Then he changed the subject – or seemed to. ‘Did you feel sick when you woke up that morning? After your blackout?’
I felt a sudden chill. ‘Why?’ I asked.
‘You did, didn’t you?’
‘Maybe.’
‘That’s because you ate something rank. Like a rat or a dead pigeon.’ Though he couldn’t have seen me wince, Reuben must have sensed my discomfort. ‘We’ve all done that,’ he said. ‘It’s no big deal. Pigeons are nothing; it’s people we’ve gotta worry about.’
At this point Fergus couldn’t contain himself any longer. He had been avidly studying my face, and my expression was driving him wild. ‘What is it?’ he hissed. ‘Tell me!’
But I shushed him instead, because Reuben was still talking.
‘You were lucky, mate. If that reserve hadn’t been there, you woulda been chewing up aviaries and attacking drunks. I’m surprised you didn’t mangle a few mailboxes.’ His flat voice became suddenly brisk, as if he was running out of time. ‘The proof you want will be in that park. I’ll bet money on it. Just go there and have a poke around – you’ll see.’
‘See what?’ I demanded. ‘What should I look for?’
‘Damage.’
‘Huh?’
‘damage. You know. When things get busted.’
‘Things are always getting busted around here. There’s nothing much else to do.’ I wasn’t impressed. Vandalism? What kind of proof was that? ‘I know lots of people who like pulling up bushes. It doesn’t make them werewolves.’
‘Check the garbage bins. You’ll have gone for the garbage bins.’
‘Yeah, but everyone goes for the garbage bins. That’s not proof.’ By this time, I have to admit, I was growing angry. How stupid did he think I was? Did he really expect me to believe such blatant lies? ‘This is all crap. What are you really after? What’s this all about?’
‘Toby, I just wanna help.’
Suddenly Fergus grabbed my arm and whispered, ‘Tell him you’ve gotta meet him!’ When I shook my head, he began to nod frantically. ‘Yes! Yes! We’ll do it in the park!’
‘Sorry.’ Reuben must have heard something. ‘I didn’t catch that.’
‘It’s nothing,’ I replied, glaring at Fergus – who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He put his lips to my free ear.
‘We’ll play a trick,’ he buzzed. ‘We’ll fool him with fake paw prints. It’ll be a total set-up.’
‘Toby? Are you there?’
‘Get him to meet you and I’ll film it,’ Fergus instructed, under his breath. ‘With my mobile.’
‘Hello? Toby?’
‘Hang on,’ I told Reuben, before covering the mouthpiece again. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I squeaked. ‘This guy’s a head case, remember? If he finds out I’m having him on, he might go for me!’
Fergus, however, flapped my objections aside as if they were mosquitoes. ‘You’ll be fine. I told you, I’ll film it. Me and Amin can hide in the bushes, so if anything happens, it’ll be three against one.’
I hesitated. It was a tempting plan. Tricking the guy who had tried to trick me would be an enjoyable case of poetic justice.
‘Maybe you’d better come and show me all this stuff yourself,’ I said into the phone. ‘Why don’t we meet at the reserve and go from there?’ A pause. ‘Hello?’ No answer. ‘Hello?’
‘Jeez, mate.’ When Reuben finally spoke, he did it very, very reluctantly. ‘I dunno about that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I’m not sure if Father Ramon is available.’
‘So come by yourself.’
‘I can’t. Your mum wouldn’t like it.’
‘She won’t even know.’
‘Exactly,’ Reuben muttered. ‘It would look bad. Meeting you in a park? I could get arrested. People might think I was there for . . . uh . . . well—’
‘The wrong reasons?’ All at once I could see what he was getting at. The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. ‘Like you’re a pervert, or something?’
‘Which I’m not,’ he growled, then added, ‘You’re not trying to get me arrested, by any chance?’
‘No!’
‘Because if you are, you’ll rue the day.’
Though his matter-of-fact tone was chilling, all it did was make me mad. Really mad.
I often get mad when I’m frightened.
‘So you’re threatening me now?’ I retorted. ‘Nice move.’
‘Toby, what the hell do you want?’
‘What do you want?’
‘I’ll tell you what I want. I want to make sure that no one gets killed.’ He was fast losing patience. I could tell. ‘You’re dangerous. Do you r
ealise that? You’re a threat to society.’
‘Oh, yeah. Right.’ Man, but I was pissed off. ‘So you’re scared to meet me, is that it?’
‘I’m not scared.’
‘That’s funny. You sound scared.’
‘Jesus,’ he spat. ‘You think I can’t take care of myself?’
‘Well if you’re that tough, what’s the problem?’
‘I’m not scared to meet you. I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t meet you. I’m scared you’ll end up killing someone.’
‘Then what are you waiting for? Come and convince me.’ By this time, I have to admit, I was already half-convinced. Something about our heated exchange had opened a door in my head, and I desperately wanted to shut it again. I was anxious to see his so-called proof, so that I could dismiss it as complete rubbish. ‘Put your money where your mouth is, why don’t you?’
‘I would, if I could be sure you were on the level.’
‘Me?’ I couldn’t believe my ears. ‘That’s pretty rich, coming from a guy who says he’s a werewolf!’
‘I’m not trying to pull a fast one—’
‘Prove it.’
‘Fine.’ All of a sudden he capitulated, sounding weary. ‘Where should I meet you? At the park?’
It took me a moment to switch tracks. His about-face had come as a complete surprise.
‘Uh – yeah,’ I agreed, glancing at Fergus. ‘At the park. Around two o’clock?’
Fergus nodded. There was a big grin on his face.
‘Okay. Two o’clock this afternoon,’ said Reuben.
‘On the steps by the lake. In front of the conference centre,’ I suggested. It was the most obvious place I could think of. ‘Have you been there before?’
‘No.’
‘Well, you can’t miss it. Just follow the signs.’
‘I’ll be there.’
Click. Reuben hung up before I could, like someone slamming a door in my ear. Fergus scowled at me.
The Abused Werewolf Rescue Group Page 6