No one but Nelson could see or hear the monsters, but by having them all wear gloves, Ivan could not only see where they were, he could also use sign language to communicate with them. There was a fold-away blackboard for the monsters to write messages to Ivan, but teaching them all some basic sign language had made things more conversational.
One of Nelson’s monsters, Hoot – a large golden bird with a silver beak and a very high opinion of himself – had taken to wearing a top hat in addition to the gloves. Hoot thought it made him look even more handsome than usual, and no amount of mockery from the others could convince him otherwise.
As Nelson and Celeste entered Ivan’s workshop, Celeste saw seven pairs of floating gloves (and a top hat) rush towards her little brother. She stepped out of the way and turned to Ivan, who was pumping air into the front wheel of a bicycle.
Guess what? signed Celeste.
What? replied Ivan.
Pogo and Doody are going to get married! signed Celeste. Ivan’s eyebrows rose to their highest position as his brain processed this information. Then he grinned and burst into applause.
Nelson crouched so that Crush, the smallest of all his monsters, could leap into his arms and cling to his neck.
‘HONK!’ said the monster happily.
Being hugged by Crush felt wonderful. Like the deeply satisfying feeling of drinking hot chocolate when you’re very cold and tired, Crush sent a smile-inducing glow through Nelson’s body and brain. Crush had a delicious smell to him too, like the top of a newborn baby’s head, with a dash of caramel and a hint of baking bread.
All of the monsters had a distinctive aroma that only Nelson could smell. Stan, the bright-red and angry one with big horns and even bigger fists, smelt like used fireworks. Puff, the lazy one who resembled a large purple cat, gave off a scent that was a mix of lavender, vanilla and dusty library – unless he farted, and then the smell was so horrendous that even normal people could smell it. Nosh, the pink, glutinous, roly-poly member of the group, gave off the unmistakeable tang of the revolting juice that collects at the bottom of a bin, along with whatever he had just eaten. Hoot, the vain bird in the top hat, gave off a fake peachy smell. It reminded Nelson of the floor-cleaning fluid used to mop the school toilets. Miser, the greedy one shaped like a blue egg, with bulbous roving eyes and rubbery roving tentacles, smelt like the school toilets before they used the peach-scented floor cleaner. Finally we come to Spike, the envious cactus lookalike, who smelt faintly of lemons.
Despite their peculiar smells, looks and personalities, and the fact that none of them was as cuddly or affectionate as Crush, Nelson loved all his monsters equally.
‘What’s going on? Why do you need the cactus juice?’ he asked now, holding up the bottle. All of them answered at once and Nelson couldn’t understand a word.
‘Whoa! Stop! One at a time! Miser, what’s going on? I just saw the fruit bats outside.’
Though Miser rarely showed emotion, those bulbous eyes of his lit up at being the one chosen to answer Nelson. He cleared his throat before speaking.
‘Master Nelson, thanks to the fruit bats, we have received a message from London Zoo. Tango the gorilla is dying.’
‘What do you mean?’ As Nelson spoke, Crush closed his eyes and hugged Nelson’s neck even tighter.
‘According to the bats, she had a fight with the new male gorilla,’ said Miser hesitantly, and Stan, who could not bear it when someone didn’t get straight to the point, pushed Miser aside and finished the story.
‘The bats said Tango’s gonna be dead by morning if we don’t ’elp, all right?! So if we wanna save her, we gotta get that cactus juice to London Zoo or Tango’s little baby will be left without a mum.’
‘HOOOONK!’ went Crush.
‘Can I ask what’s going on yet?’ asked Celeste from across the room.
‘Uh . . . hang on, Cel,’ said Nelson.
‘Master Nelson, we needed your supply of cactus juice, for once again Spike has been sitting too close to the wood burner and dried out.’ Miser pointed to Spike, who was standing at the back of the group looking very sorry for himself. Spike’s rubbery green flesh had turned wrinkly and woody in texture. He sneezed and out of his nostrils flew a little cloud of dust rather than the usual magic green elixir.
‘Spike! You know this happens if you dry out!’ said Nelson.
‘I was cold! Anyway, not my fault if I fall asleep by the fire. Someone should’ve woken me up,’ groaned Spike.
‘Nah, never your fault, is it, Spike?! Naaah! Always someone else’s fault.’ Stan clearly wanted to give Spike a slap, but the angry monster wasn’t going anywhere near those cactus needles.
‘Stop arguing!’ cried Nelson. ‘I’ve got enough juice in the bottle for Tango. Crush and Puff – you’ll ride with me. Miser, Stan – you’ll ride with Ivan. Nosh, Hoot – you’re going with Celeste.’
‘What about me?’ protested Spike.
‘You’re staying here and drinking water until you are bright green again, got it?’ Nelson pointed to the basin at the end of the workbench.
‘Urgh! So boooring!’
‘Don’t you moan at me. It’s your fault you’re like this.’ Nelson shuddered. In that moment he had sounded exactly like his mother.
‘I take it we’re going somewhere, then?’ asked Celeste as she fastened the clip of her cycle helmet under her chin.
‘We’ve gotta go and save a gorilla at London Zoo.’
Celeste raised her eyebrows at Ivan, who smiled and shrugged in return, having lip-read Nelson’s response. She kissed him on his cheek for being such a patient boyfriend, though she couldn’t help but wonder when the novelty of looking after Nelson’s monsters would wear off.
THE MIDNIGHT BIKE RIDE
Though Ivan’s favourite kind of bicycle was a racing bike as lean and lightweight as a coat hanger, it was customizing bicycles for parents to carry their children to school on that had been his main line of work. It was three of these bicycles that Nelson, Celeste and Ivan were now riding through the backstreets of North London.
The bicycles had electric motors at the back and a bucket-shaped compartment at the front that could seat two large children, or in this case, two monsters. A waterproof dome arched over the front section, and though it wasn’t raining, Nelson found his monsters behaved better when they were zipped up – especially Nosh, who was always wanting to eat something he had found in the street. This could be anything from a half-eaten chicken leg to a discarded shoe, so it was better to keep him away from temptation.
Midnight had come and gone but the main streets of North London were still busy with cars, night buses and groups of people enjoying their night out. Nelson took the back roads, which he now knew very well since he had ridden his scooter to the zoo many times before. He’d also flown across London, but flying was no longer an option. In the past, complimenting and flattering Hoot had enabled the great bird to grow large enough to be able to fly all of them anywhere they needed to go, but the other monsters hated having to say such nice things about Hoot and refused to do it any more.
And anyway, these bicycles were fast and a delight to ride, especially with his sister and Ivan riding beside him. Though they were racing to attend an emergency situation, Nelson felt very happy indeed. Here he was with his monsters, on a mission he knew for sure would end in success, thanks to the cactus juice. One sip and that poor gorilla would be well again by the time the sun was up.
‘Ding! Ding! Coming through!’ Celeste laughed as she overtook Nelson and shot out into a brightly lit car park that led towards a footbridge crossing Regent’s Canal. Hoot and Nosh, who were travelling in the front of Celeste’s bike, unzipped the cover and started taunting Nelson.
‘We da fastest! You da losers!’ bellowed Nosh.
‘Toodle-pip, slowcoach!’ sang Hoot.
The compartment on the front of Nelson’s bike unzipped and Puff stuck out his head, surprising Nelson by shouting, ‘Go on! Get after them, Nelson!’
Puff rarely wanted to do anything quickly. As if that weren’t enough encouragement, Crush climbed up on to Nelson’s handlebars and began to honk relentlessly.
‘HONK! HONK! HONK!’
‘All right! All right! I’ll catch up!’ Nelson laughed. He flicked the electric bike into HIGH POWER mode and . . . whoosh! It felt as if a great wind were blowing him over the bridge.
‘HONK! HONK! HONK!’
Nelson drew up beside Celeste on the other side of the bridge and the monsters roared insults at each other.
‘They’re shouting pretty rude stuff at each other right now,’ Nelson explained to his sister.
‘Really? What are they saying?’
Before Nelson could answer – whoosh! – Ivan had shot right past them, Stan leaning out of the front compartment and blowing a raspberry so loud it sounded like a passing motorcycle.
Thanks to their silly race, they had made good time and were now in Regent’s Park, where they leaned their bikes against the perimeter fence of the zoo. The clouds hovering above the park glowed with orange city light while below the occasional late-night jogger or groups of unsteady-looking people could be seen passing through the pools of lamplight along the pathways. On the other side of the fence, the zoo was a dark cluster of buildings and Nelson spotted the fruit bats circling above. Bats always give the impression of being in a state of panic when they fly, but tonight they really were in a frenzy.
‘Wait here with Ivan, Cel,’ he said.
‘OK. Are all the monsters going with you too?’
‘Yeah. It’s better if we’re all together. Whenever we split up, things always go wrong.’
‘Ready when you are, dear boy!’ crowed Hoot, who was now hatless and gloveless, and, like his fellow monsters, completely invisible to anyone but Nelson.
‘Right!’ said Nelson as he clapped his hands together. ‘Stan, help the others over the fence and wait for me by the gorilla house. Hoot, you’re gonna fly Nosh on to the roof of the gorilla house.’
‘As you wish, but what about you?’ asked Hoot.
‘I’ll be inside Nosh.’
‘Yah! Nelly-son hidin’ in ma tum-tum!’ sang Nosh.
‘Nelse? What do you mean, you’ll be inside Nosh?’ said Celeste, who looked appalled at the idea.
‘Believe me,’ replied Nelson as he began jogging on the spot. ‘I’d rather not do this. Seriously, it’s the most disgusting thing ever, but there are security cameras all over the zoo and if I’m inside Nosh I’ll be invisible to them.’
It was one of the weirdest things Celeste had ever heard her brother say, and it was about to be the weirdest thing she had ever seen.
‘Doesn’t Nosh burn everything he eats?’
‘Yup, that’s why we’ve gotta be really, really quick – so he can spit me out before I get cooked in his stomach.’
Ivan had read Nelson’s lips and held up his hand for Nelson to high-five. Unlike Celeste, Ivan had plenty of faith in Nelson and the monsters, and he was excited to see what happened next.
For a few moments, Nelson continued to jog on the spot and take deep breaths as if he were preparing to dive into a pool rather than climb inside a monster.
‘Can’t you just stay here and let your monsters go into the zoo and do it for you?’ asked Celeste.
Nelson shook his head. ‘They’re a total mess without me.’
Celeste and Ivan could not hear Nelson’s monsters roar in protest at what he had just said, even though it was completely true.
‘See you in a bit,’ said Nelson. To Ivan and Celeste it appeared Nelson was climbing into an invisible box. He paused for a moment, his lower half completely invisible, before taking one last deep breath, holding his nose, crouching, and vanishing out of sight.
Ivan grinned and shook his head in disbelief. Cool, he signed, but this only made Celeste feel more concerned for her little brother. Ivan loved the weirdness that came along with the monsters, even if it was a bit dangerous. Celeste gripped the railings and scanned the zoo for signs of Nelson or the monsters.
Hoot flapped his wings and hovered in the air, Nosh took hold of Hoot’s dangling right foot, and up and over the fence they flew. Even while squashed inside Nosh’s foul belly, sitting in a pink soup of semi-digested gloop, Nelson could hear the wail of a dying gorilla.
OPERATION TANGO
Tango lay on her back, her breathing shallow and fast, her magnificent head rolling from side to side on the wide table. She was in a medical room for treating the larger zoo animals. The floor was tiled white, the walls were lime green, and everything, from the washbasin to the table Tango lay on, was made of metal. So many bright lights blazed from the ceiling that all shadows had been banished. The terrible fight Tango had had with the new male gorilla had been in defence of her baby, Kiki, who remained completely unharmed thanks to her mother’s bravery. The wounds that covered her body might have healed in time, but the injuries inside were beyond repair.
Dr Moyse, the veterinary surgeon, had already prepared the injection that would end Tango’s suffering. She tapped the needle and squirted a little of the liquid into the air to clear it of bubbles. Dr Moyse was in her early fifties and wore blue rubber gloves, yellow rubber boots and bottle-green overalls. She turned to Catherine, the zookeeper, who was wearing the same outfit as Dr Moyse (only messier); Catherine swatted away another tear. Ever since Tango arrived as an infant at London Zoo, Catherine had been her main keeper. She had been there for every significant moment, including Kiki’s birth, and Catherine felt as close to the gorilla as if they were family. What a horrible night this was. Catherine knew there was no way to save Tango, that it was unfair to let her suffer a moment longer, and so she nodded for Dr Moyse to proceed.
Dr Moyse held the needle against the shaved patch of fur just above Tango’s wrist. Catherine turned away and sobbed as she hugged the baby gorilla even tighter. The needle punctured Tango’s skin, but before Dr Moyse could push the fatal medicine out of the syringe and into Tango’s bloodstream, she fell to the floor with a great thwump!
Catherine turned around and was stunned to find not just the vet lying on the floor, but a cloud of foul-smelling purple smoke swirling around her. She would have cried out, or even run to help Dr Moyse, but a second later, Catherine was lying on the floor too.
Nelson stood beside Tango’s head holding the bottle of cactus juice. He pressed a scarf over his nose and mouth to avoid the stinking purple gas while the rest of his body dripped with Nosh’s slobber.
‘Out you go, you foul purple gas! Aargh! Be gone! Yucky-poo-poo!’ Hoot was in charge of fanning the gas back out of the door. It was not a job he cherished. Nosh was still outside and letting off a great blast of flames through the top of his head. He had managed to avoid incinerating Nelson before they touched down, but carrying Nelson in his belly had made him extremely hungry, so he had tucked into a bucket of damp, used straw and was greedily chugging it down. Trust me, you don’t want to know why the straw was damp.
Nelson looked down at Tango. To him, gorillas belonged in the same category as mountains, thunderstorms or great waves crashing against the sand: beautiful but scary. Nelson felt both a little frightened and very lucky to be in the presence of such a magnificent creature.
He unscrewed the top of the bottle and tentatively held it over Tango’s mouth, but he could feel only the faintest breath against the skin of his hand.
‘What are ya waiting for? Give ’er the juice,’ whispered Stan.
Nelson nodded.
Stan took hold of Tango’s head and lifted it ever so slightly from the table. At the same time, Miser’s rubbery arms snaked up over the table and his little hands prised open Tango’s lips.
Nelson poured some of the cactus juice into Tango’s mouth.
‘How much should I give her?’ whispered Nelson.
‘All of it,’ said Stan and Miser in unison. Tango was huge and needed all the help she could get.
As Nelson continued to pour the green juice int
o Tango’s mouth, he felt the soft pressure of Puff circling his legs and ankles, just like a cat in need of cat food.
‘Ummm, Nelson?’ Puff said. ‘That’s a . . . a lot of juice. I mean . . . who knows . . . how she’ll react after all that, so . . . so I think we, uh . . . we all better get ready to run.’ Everyone nodded in agreement as Puff started plodding towards the door.
Glug, glug, glug.
There was a gentle crackling sound, and Nelson looked down to see the patch of shaved fur on Tango’s arm growing back. The wounds that covered her body began to shrink and heal, while inside her the more serious injuries were being reversed. Some of the cactus juice dribbled out of the corners of Tango’s mouth. When the bottle was empty, Miser closed her mouth and Stan gently laid her head back on the table.
Instantly Tango’s eyes flashed open, and she roared – a triumphant and stunningly loud roar that made Nelson’s eyes vibrate. He had heard some pretty good roars in his time, but this would take some beating.
‘Go! Go! Go!’ yelped Nelson as he sped towards the door, and the other monsters followed him at such great speed that they all became stuck in the doorway – a tangle of tentacles, wings and claws all scrabbling to get free.
‘Oh! Yes, she’s clearly on the mend!’ said Hoot.
Nelson pulled the monsters free and quickly herded them through the door one at a time. Looking back into the room, he saw Tango spring up and leap from the table towards Crush, who was at the back of the queue.
‘Honk! Honk!’ said Crush as he hugged Tango’s leg and then ran after Nelson, who closed the door after them.
As Nelson climbed back into Nosh for the return journey, Tango sat on the floor and stroked Catherine’s hair.
‘That zookeeper and vet are going to have the most amazing shock when they wake up,’ said Nelson as he tried to flick Nosh’s slobber from his arms. Much to his sister’s relief, they were back in the park.
‘Are you sure they’ll be safe?’ said Celeste, fastening the buckle on her bicycle helmet.
The Curse of the Deadly 7 Page 2