Charlie Changes Into a Chicken Page 5

  ‘You are joking?!’ Charlie said in utter disbelief.

  ‘It’s the ONLY explanation,’ Flora said, crossing her arms.

  It was Monday lunch break, and the first time the four had been together since the Bandit’s Hill Disaster.

  ‘You’re saying I wasn’t scared enough to change? You are actually completely and totally – DO YOU REALISE HOW TERRIFIED I WAS?’

  ‘I think you enjoyed yourself too much,’ Flora said thoughtfully, as much to herself as anyone else.

  ‘You have lost it. Like actually properly lost it,’ Charlie replied.

  ‘She might have a point,’ said Mohsen. ‘It did look awesome wicked fun.’

  ‘I can assure you it was NOT.’

  ‘Charlie,’ crazy said Wogan, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘You were whooping with delight. The whole way down.’

  ‘That was NOT whooping! I was screaming!’ protested Charlie.

  ‘We could hear you, Charlie. Whooping.’

  ‘Screaming!’

  ‘Whooping.’

  ‘I. WAS. SCREAMING. SCREAMING! I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. I WAS TERRIFIED.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Flora.

  ‘Oh, do not start hmming!’ snapped Charlie.

  ‘We should listen to Flora’s hmms. You know that,’ Mohsen said.

  ‘Hmm,’ Flora hmmed again. ‘I think I might have made a mistake.’

  ‘YES, I KNOW!’ said Charlie.

  ‘I should have thought more carefully,’ continued Flora.

  ‘You’re absolutely right there,’ said Charlie.

  ‘Charlie, you had rollercoaster fear.’

  ‘Rollercoaster fear?’ Charlie replied, shaking his head. But there was something that nagged in the back of his mind. Deep down – deep, deep down – Charlie knew there had been a tiny element of excitement in his descent down Bandit’s Hill. Looking back, Charlie realized that as well as ludicrously dangerous and terrifying and insane, it had been … fun.

  ‘The first time you changed, you were worried about your brother. The second time it happened, you were in trouble at school. You were upset and anxious both times. There was nothing enjoyable about that. Worry isn’t fun. And that’s where the experiment went wrong.’

  ‘And so …?’ said Charlie, nervous of the reply.

  ‘And so we need to do another experiment to test the improved theory,’ said Flora, with an air of finality. ‘That’s how science works, Charlie.’

  ‘OK then, smarty-pants, what’s your plan this time?’

  Flora stroked her chin. ‘I haven’t quite finalized it yet. It’s nearly there. But not quite. But I will definitely have a plan before you change again. One hundred per cent definite,’ said Flora with an air of confidence and certainty.

  Behind the four friends, clearly looking very pleased at what he had just overheard, Dylan crept off silently, unnoticed.

  ⋆⋆⋆

  Perhaps Charlie shouldn’t have been quite so willing to believe Flora’s confidence and certainty. Two days after their conversation, her plan was still yet to appear, and it was the day of the dress rehearsal for the play.

  Ms Fyre and Mr Wind had spent many long evenings together writing their musical masterpiece, The Veg of Reason, the story of two rival gangs of vegetables, and two star-crossed vegetables from those rival gangs who fall in love and –

  Actually there’s no need to say anything more about the plot. There’s really no point in destroying your brain cells by giving you any more details. All you need to know is that Ms Fyre and Mr Wind were very proud of it and were extremely anxious that everything should go as smoothly as possible at the dress rehearsal.

  About twenty children were waiting backstage, all dressed in vegetable costumes and chatting and giggling excitedly. Mohsen and Flora had decided against auditioning for the play. Wogan, though, had gone along to the audition to give Charlie moral support, and had been accidentally auditioned and cast as the main star. He was dressed as a big stalk of broccoli and was sweating under the heavy costume at the thought of having to kiss Cara Cotton at the end of the play. Cara was sitting opposite him, nervously adjusting her cauliflower costume.

  Charlie sat on the floor looking very glum. This look was perfect for his role as Sad Potato Number 1, and Mr Wind seemed very happy to see Charlie getting into his character so well. Charlie sank further into the floor when he heard Cara’s cue to go on.

  Dylan, dressed in a bright orange costume, was also getting perfectly into his role as Happy Carrot Number 2. He sauntered up to Charlie with a huge grin stretched across his face.

  ‘Cheer up, Charlie,’ sneered Dylan. ‘It’s not the end of the world. It’s not like you’re about to change into an animal and be revealed as a freak of nature and sent to the circus. Oh, sorry! I forgot. Yes you are. That’s exactly what’s going to happen. Say goodbye to your life, loser.’

  ‘Oh, get lost, Dylan. I’m really not in the mood.’

  Dylan gave him a smug smile in return and sauntered off. Charlie hated happy carrots.

  A moment later, he heard Cara Cotton singing her cauliflower song. That meant he and Dylan were up next. They both went into the wings and waited for Cara’s song to end. Cara finished, bowed and that was their cue. She came past looking relieved. Charlie tried to walk on, but Dylan pushed him out of the way.

  ‘You’re going to change!’ he whispered at Charlie as he shoved past.

  A ball of nervousness bounced in Charlie’s stomach.

  ‘Shut up, Dylan. Just shut up.’

  They walked out on to the stage. Mr Wind and Ms Fyre were sat next to each other in the front row, looking expectantly up at Charlie and Dylan. Mr Wind gave them the thumbs up, and Ms Fyre bared her tombstone teeth to remind them to smile. Quite why a sad potato was supposed to smile was lost on Charlie.

  Dylan coughed, did an awkward bow, and then began to sing his ‘Happy Carrot’fn1 song:

  ‘Ohhhhhhhh …

  I’m a happy carrot

  I’m pleased as punch

  Perfect for a light snack

  Or having with your lunch

  I’m a cheerful carrot

  And I’m perfectly orange

  The only thing that rhymes with that

  Is something called a sporange.

  I’m delicious and nutritious

  Extremely hard and crunchy

  Much nicer than this potato

  Who really wants to punch me!’

  Dylan finished with another awkward bow. Charlie then had to pretend to punch Dylan. He did this with perhaps more gusto than they had rehearsed before.

  Then it was time for Charlie’s ‘Sad Potato’fn2 song.

  He opened his mouth to sing, but nothing came out. He froze.

  He couldn’t remember the words.

  His mouth went dry.

  Mr Wind and Ms Fyre stared at Charlie, waiting.

  Charlie needed a wee and poo all of a sudden.

  And then, from nowhere, the words began tumbling out of him:

  ‘Ohhhhhhhhh …

  I’m a sad potato

  I’m an unhappy spud

  I’m stuck underground

  And I’m covered in mud!

  Oh, I’m a glum potato

  I’m a tuber with a frown

  Growing the wrong way up

  Cos I’m planted upside down.

  A sad potato’s a bad potato

  And I really shouldn’t whine

  But I’ve got roots growing

  Where the sun don’t shine.’

  He’d done it! He got through the song without changing! Charlie turned round to Dylan, who was looking at him, waiting. And then, a smile creeping on his face, Dylan mouthed one word at Charlie:

  Change!

  Charlie felt his eye begin to twitch.

  And then the other eye began to twitch. He felt hot. He felt full of static.

  Charlie was changing. Dylan had done it.

  Mr Wind and Ms Fyre sat blinking up at Charli
e, waiting for him to say his final line and leave the stage.

  Charlie decided that not bothering with the final line and leaving the stage as swiftly as possible was an excellent idea.

  He ran.

  He jumped off the stage, ran through the hall, and burst out the doors, running straight into a corridor full of chattering children.

  He had to get away from them.

  His body was now spitting and fizzing with electricity.

  Any second now he’d change.

  He legged it down the corridor, his body full of fire. Footsteps were pounding behind him. Charlie turned and saw Dylan giving chase, a determined look on his face.

  Charlie flew round a corner into an empty corridor and felt himself shrinking as he ran.

  And he kept shrinking.

  And kept shrinking.

  The corridor suddenly seemed unimaginably huge.

  He was tiny and yet still shrinking.

  His skin was gone; his body now covered in interlocking brown scales. Charlie had changed into – well, he had no idea what he’d changed into but it was absolutely minuscule.

  At that moment Dylan burst round the corner …

  Into an empty corridor.

  It wasn’t completely empty, of course. Charlie was there – but he was now about the size of a grain of rice, and Dylan obviously couldn’t see him.

  Dylan stalked down the corridor, looking around suspiciously.

  He stepped slowly over Charlie without spotting him.

  Dylan was the size of a skyscraper, bigger, in fact, his body stretching off into the distance, towards a ceiling that looked to Charlie as far away and immense as the sky. Dylan’s feet were the size of football pitches, and they slapped down on the floor, nearly squashing him.

  Charlie remained totally still, terrified of getting crushed by the giant shoes as Dylan walked past.

  Suddenly the lunch bell rang. Charlie remembered with a sickening jolt that the corridor he was in led directly to the school cafe. And that meant it was about to be swamped with –

  There was the sound of feet – lots and lots of feet – all charging towards the cafe. And, more to the point, charging towards Charlie.

  Now, Charlie had been scared in his life before, but nothing – NOTHING – could have prepared him for the sight of an army of mountain-sized children thundering towards him with marathon-length strides.

  I’m definitely going to get squashed, Charlie thought, terror-stricken.

  He had to somehow get out of the way.

  Maybe he could try jumping.

  Charlie jumped.

  And he jumped higher and further and faster than he could have believed possible. He was Superman, soaring through the air with such ease he felt like he was flying again.

  And as he made his second jump, he realized exactly what he was.

  Charlie was a flea.

  He jumped in between the legs of the children, hopping to and fro, exhilarated by his extraordinary new-found gymnastic ability.

  He still had to get out of the corridor, though, and quickly. If he changed back to his usual self here, he’d be seen by everybody. And that wouldn’t be good at all.

  Charlie began hopping from kid to kid. He jumped upwards, from legs to arms, until finally he landed on the head of a tall Year Five girl, and nestled in her hair. From here Charlie had a perfect vantage point. He had covered a lot of ground. He was nearly at the end of the corridor. If he could make it into a classroom, chances were it would be empty because it was lunchtime, and hopefully he’d change back quickly without being seen.

  He saw the face of the person next to the girl he was riding – it was Teddy, Dylan’s best friend.

  Even though it would cost him time, Charlie couldn’t resist. He jumped on to Teddy’s shoulder and then up to his neck. And as hard as he could he took a great big bite.

  But Charlie had forgotten for a moment why fleas bite. Before he knew it he was sucking Teddy’s blood. With a heave of disgust he stopped biting and tried spitting the blood out. Although still disgusted, he was happy in the knowledge that Teddy would have a nasty, itchy fleabite.

  He began hopping from head to head across the sea of children that stretched out in front of him.

  Boing! On to Francis from 3P’s curly hair.

  Boing! On to Ava from 4R’s long plaited hair.

  Boing! On to James from 2S’s short spiky hair.

  And so he bounced and hopped all the way to the end of the corridor.

  The first classroom he came to – Class 2R – he crawled under the door into what seemed to be a mercifully silent classroom. It was so huge and he was so tiny that he couldn’t possibly see the whole of it, but it seemed like the coast was clear.

  He remained still and waited. And waited.

  And waited.

  And then, with a surge of relief, he felt the change coming back. His arms, hair, his skin, all returned. Up he grew, and before he knew it he was back to plain old Charlie McGuffin and standing in a silent room.

  ‘Hello, Charlie. I guessed you might end up in here.’

  Charlie swung round.

  Dylan was standing behind him at the back of the room. And he was holding a phone pointed straight at Charlie.

  ‘Say hello to the camera, Charlie. Give us a wave. I’ve been recording the whole show. The whole disgusting sight of you changing from a tiny bug back to Charlie.’

  Charlie gulped.

  ‘Give me the phone, Dylan.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Dylan said with a cackle. ‘Not a chance. We’re going to be famous, you and I. We don’t have to wait for you to change in front of everyone at the play: this exclusive footage is going to go viral. Now I get to be rich, and you’re finished, and out of this school for good.’

  ‘Please, Dylan. Just give it to me.’

  ‘Ha, OK, yeah, forget the whole plan, here you go, take the phone. NOT. I’m not an idiot, Charlie.’

  ‘That’s debatable.’

  ‘Calling me names is not going to help you, Charlie. In fact, nothing will. Goodbye, Charlie McGuffin.’

  And with that Dylan slipped the phone into his pocket and walked out of the classroom.

  Charlie chased him into the corridor, calling after him.

  Dylan simply ignored him.

  That was it then. Charlie was finished.

  Out of nowhere a child-sized stick of broccoli steamrollered round the corner and barrelled straight into Dylan, who was knocked backwards on to his bottom.

  It was Wogan, closely followed by Flora and Mohsen.

  Dylan picked himself up, and dusted himself down.

  ‘Watch where you’re going, you idiots!’ he seethed, and stormed off down the corridor.

  ‘What’s his problem?’ asked Wogan, panting. ‘And where’ve you been? We’ve been looking all over for you since you bolted from the rehearsal. What happened?’

  ‘Changed again, didn’t I?’

  ‘No way! What to this time?’

  ‘A flea,’ replied Charlie.

  ‘Whoa! No wonder you had to flee so quickly,’ Mohsen said, grinning at his own joke.

  Flora and Charlie glared at Mohsen. Wogan looked confused.

  ‘This is not the time for jokes, Mohsen,’ said Flora.

  ‘Look, that’s not important,’ said Charlie. ‘I’ve got more problems to worry about. I’m in big trouble.’

  ‘Bigger than usual?’ said Mohsen.

  ‘The biggest. Dylan followed me and recorded me changing back. He said he’s going to show it to the world. So basically I’m a dead man unless we can somehow get Dylan’s phone from him before he does anything with the video.’

  ‘You mean this phone?’ said Flora.

  The three boys looked at Flora, who was holding a phone.

  ‘Yes,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s exactly like that phone.’

  ‘That’s because this is Dylan’s phone,’ said Flora, blinking.

  ‘Look, Flora, this isn’t the time for any more of your ridi
culous –’

  ‘He dropped it,’ Flora interrupted. ‘When Wogan bumped into him and he fell over.’

  ‘You’re … You’re kidding?!’ said Charlie, mouth flapping like a dying fish.

  ‘I saw it fly out of his pocket. So I picked it up. I was about to give it back to him but he was rude so I sort of accidentally kept hold of it. So you can just delete the video and give it him straight back.’

  ‘Flora,’ gasped Charlie. ‘You are an actual proper real-life lifesaver.’ Charlie took the phone off Flora and deleted the video. Without thinking, he grinned at her and said, ‘I could kiss you.’

  Flora blushed as soon as he said that. And Charlie blushed right back.

  Handing the phone back to Dylan was easily the highlight of Charlie’s week. Dylan’s face when he saw the video had been deleted was an image Charlie would not forget in a long time: it was somewhere between bright red and purple, a beautiful mixture of disbelief and fury.

  Once that fun was over, though, Charlie and his friends’ minds all turned back to the problem in hand: how to stop Charlie turning into an animal before the school play arrived. It wasn’t until the next day that Flora devised the experiment that would test her latest theory – that stress was causing him to change. Changing into a flea during the rehearsal was more evidence, but Flora had to be certain. She needed final, absolute proof. And Flora revealed to Charlie exactly how they were going to get it while they were all playing tennis. They had just had a long rally and stopped for a breather.

  ‘I think I’ve worked it out. It came to me this morning. But you’re not going to like it.’

  ‘What a surprise,’ said Charlie.

  ‘No. You really won’t,’ said Mohsen.

  ‘I’m sure I won’t,’ said Charlie.

  ‘No. You REALLY, REALLY won’t. You’re going to hate it,’ said Wogan.

  ‘Oh, just tell me! It can’t be that bad.’

  ‘Right,’ said Flora. ‘Right. OK. Here goes. Here’s what I want you to do. I’m about to tell you what you should do. OK. You ready?’

  ‘Yes! Just tell me! It can’t be that bad!’

  It was that bad. Worse, in fact.

  ‘OK then,’ Flora said. ‘What you need to do is …’ She took a deep breath. ‘Break into Ms Fyre’s office and shave her monkey.’