‘Yeah, why don’t you go and play with the traffic?’ said Steven, helping Ben to his feet.
Splitter frowned at the crowd in front of him. Very occasionally, one of his class would stand up to him but it was always individually – never as a group. Splitter didn’t like this. Not one little bit.
‘All the teachers think you’re so brill and you’re nothing but a bullying, stupid idiot,’ Ben said furiously.
‘Yeah. I wish the teachers could see you for what you really are,’ Steven added.
‘Yeah, so do I.’
‘And me.’ Others in the class began to join in.
‘Hands up all those who agree,’ said Steven.
Fifteen hands shot straight up into the air.
‘You see! Everyone agrees with me,’ Steven said coldly.
‘You just wait. I’ll get all of you . . .’ Splitter began. ‘And I’ll start with this stupid football.’
And Splitter kicked Whizziwig across the classroom.
‘Whizziwig!’ Ben cried out desperately.
Ben ran over to where Splitter had kicked Whizziwig. She lay totally still, her eyes closed. Ben stroked her fur, trying to feel if she was still alive, but he couldn’t tell. Hot, angry tears welled up in Ben’s eyes. Furiously he turned back to Splitter.
‘So much for your stupid, hairy football,’ Splitter laughed at Ben. His smile faded as he turned to glare at all those in front of him. ‘And so much for all of you. Just wait till you’re all outside in the playground.’
And with that, Splitter marched out of the classroom.
Chapter Nine
Splitter Changes
THERE WAS AN uncomfortable silence in the classroom when Splitter left. Slowly, everyone began to wander out. No one was looking forward to getting to the playground. Splitter would be even worse than normal now.
Ben dropped to his knees.
‘Whizziwig? Whizziwig, are you all right? Speak to me,’ Ben pleaded.
‘Ben, what is it? What is that thing?’ asked Steven from behind him.
‘Whizziwig, please. Speak to me,’ Ben said urgently.
‘What on earth . . . You mean, that thing is alive?’ Steven asked, his eyes bigger than saucers.
Ben took a quick look around the room. The few people left in the class were on their way out and not taking any notice of Ben or Steven.
‘Her name is Whizziwig and she’s from the planet Oricon,’ Ben explained.
‘An alien?’ Steven breathed, excitedly. ‘Does she have acid for blood and will she take over your body?’
‘If you can’t talk sense, get lost!’ Ben snapped.
‘Sorry!’ Steven said. ‘I got a bit carried away! Wait a minute, is she the reason you had all those bikes in your front garden yesterday?’
Ben nodded.
‘I knew it!’ said Steven.
Ben turned back to Whizziwig. Slowly her eyes fluttered open. Ben sat back on his heels and, picking up Whizziwig, hugged her tight.
‘Oh, Whizziwig, I thought . . . I thought . . .’ Ben couldn’t say what he thought. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I think so,’ Whizziwig whispered. She moved out of Ben’s grasp and hovered upwards until she was level with Ben’s face.
‘What happened?’ Whizziwig asked. ‘All I remember is flying through the air – without my spaceship!’
‘That idiot Splitter thought you were a football and kicked you,’ Ben informed her, angrily.
‘Splitter!’ Whizziwig’s eyes opened wide. ‘We had better find him before anyone else does.’
‘Why? What’s the problem?’ asked Steven.
Whizziwig turned to look at Ben’s best friend. ‘You! You’re the one who wished that the teachers could see Splitter for what he really is. And all your friends wished the same by putting their hands up.’
‘So?’ Steven still didn’t get it. Ben got to his feet.
‘Whizziwig is an accidental wish-giver,’ Ben explained. ‘She grants wishes.’
‘Oh? I wish I had the latest TV game-player then,’ Steven said immediately.
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ Ben said impatiently.
‘Quick! We have to find Splitter,’ said Whizziwig.
‘Why the big rush?’ asked Steven.
‘Did you grant Steven’s wish then?’ Ben asked.
‘Sixteen of you made the same wish so it’s bound to have worked. But I must confess that I’m not one hundred per cent certain.’ Whizziwig frowned. ‘That moronic lout Splitter should thank his lucky stars that he kicked me when he did or he would have changed right here in the classroom. Even now I can’t be sure he has changed. I had to employ all my secondary energy to heal myself, leaving only my tertiary energy supply available to change him. I’m not sure it was enough.’
Steven and Ben looked at each other.
‘D’you know what she’s talking about?’ asked Steven.
‘I . . . er . . . some of . . . no!’ Ben admitted.
‘That doesn’t matter. Where is Splitter now?’ asked Whizziwig.
‘Out in the playground, pushing everyone over I expect,’ Ben predicted glumly.
‘Then let us proceed.’ Whizziwig bounced across the classroom and tucked herself down into Ben’s bag.
Once they’d reached the playground, Ben and Steven saw a strange thing. No one was crying, there were no bruised and bleeding knees being rubbed – nothing.
‘Charlotte, have you seen Splitter?’ Ben asked.
‘What d’you want him for?’ Charlotte raised her eyebrows. ‘I’d have thought you’d want to avoid him.’
‘Charlotte . . .’
‘Oh, all right. He ducked behind the loos about five minutes ago. Just waiting for the right moment to crash into as many people as possible I suppose,’ Charlotte said with disgust. ‘What a dork!’
Ben and Steven didn’t wait to hear any more. They ran full pelt to the sloping alcove which housed the playground loos. These loos were avoided by everyone who didn’t have a bad cold as they were so smelly!
And then they saw it. Splitter wasn’t there – but a donkey was!
‘Where on earth did that donkey come from?’ Steven asked, amazed.
Whizziwig popped her head out of Ben’s bag. ‘It’s not a donkey,’ she said. ‘It’s Splitter! A jackass he is, a jackass I have changed him into and a jackass he will remain!’
Ben stared at the jackass – its long floppy ears, its dopey expression – and burst out laughing. Steven joined in. He couldn’t help it.
‘That look suits him,’ grinned Ben.
‘It sure does,’ Steven agreed. ‘Now all the teachers will see Splitter for what he really is!’
Ben’s grin faded. ‘Hang on a minute. What’re we going to do with him until tomorrow morning? We can’t let anyone see him like this.’
But already someone else was wandering around the corner towards the loos.
‘Hello, Steven, Ben. I thought . . . I saw . . .’ Christopher’s voice trailed off altogether. He stared and stared at the creature before him.
‘Did one of you bring a donkey to school?’ Christopher asked, intense admiration on his face.
‘Of course not,’ frowned Ben. ‘And it’s a jackass, not a donkey.’
‘His name is Splitter,’ smiled Steven.
Christopher burst out laughing. ‘You’d better not let the real Splitter hear you say that,’ he warned.
‘Eee-aw!’ the jackass brayed.
‘He already knows!’ Ben couldn’t resist saying. And he and Steven both creased up laughing. The sound soon had more and more people coming to investigate.
‘Anyone want a ride on Splitter?’ Steven called out.
Ben was sorely tempted but in the end he shook his head.
‘No, Steven, it wouldn’t be right.’
‘Eee-aw!’ brayed Splitter the jackass in agreement.
‘Shush, you!’ said Steven, enjoying himself. He turned to Ben. ‘Yes, it would be right. He deserves it.’
&
nbsp; Ben was just about to argue when a voice boomed across the playground: ‘What on earth is that donkey doing here? Who brought that donkey to school?’
And at the sound of Mr Archer approaching, everyone froze.
Chapter Ten
Call Out the RSPCA
MR ARCHER GLARED at the jackass before turning his beady gaze on all those around him. No one spoke.
‘Where’s Splitter?’ asked Mr Archer. ‘Whenever there’s any trouble, he’s usually at the back of it somewhere.’
Ben stared at the teacher – as did everyone else. Now how did he know that? Ben could’ve sworn that Splitter had all the teachers completely fooled.
‘Stand aside,’ Mr Archer ordered.
He swept through the crowd until he stood in front of Splitter the jackass.
‘You will come with me,’ said Mr Archer.
‘Eeeee-awwww!’ Splitter replied.
Mr Archer tweaked Splitter’s long, floppy ears, trying to pull him forward.
‘Eeeee-awwww!’ Splitter brayed again.
Ben and Steven looked at each other. Ben chewed on his bottom lip. What was he going to do?
‘Follow me, you stupid creature.’ Mr Archer was getting annoyed now. He eyed the crowd around him. ‘Ben, run to the staff room and ask Mrs Jenkins to call out the RSPCA. Tell them there’s a stray donkey in our playground.’
Ben chewed nervously on his bottom lip again. Mr Archer raised his eyebrows.
‘Today, Ben! Today!’ he said with sarcasm.
Ben ran off towards the staff room as ordered. The moment he was clear of everyone else, he opened his shoulder bag.
‘Whizziwig, what’re we going to do?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Let the RSPCA take him,’ sniffed Whizziwig. ‘Who else would want him?’
‘His mum probably does!’
‘I fail to see what all the fuss is about,’ Whizziwig huffed. ‘In sixteen days he will turn back into the nasty boy he is, but hopefully he will have learnt one or two manners in the meantime.’
‘Sixteen days!’ Ben spluttered. ‘I thought Splitter was supposed to return to normal tomorrow?’
‘Usually he would,’ said Whizziwig. ‘But in this case, Steven made his wish, and fifteen others, including you, made the same wish by putting your hands up. Therefore Splitter will remain a jackass for sixteen days. Wonderful! That leaves only one more item on my ship still to fix.’
‘Whizziwig, what’s going to happen when he doesn’t get home tonight? And if the RSPCA take him, he’ll end up on a farm or in a zoo or something. You’ve got to change him back,’ said Ben.
‘Impossible,’ said Whizziwig. ‘I think I’ll shut down for an hour or so. All the excitement has quite depleted my energy reserves.’
And Whizziwig ducked back down into Ben’s bag before he could say another word.
‘Whizziwig? Whizziwig, you can’t go to sleep now,’ Ben protested.
But the silence echoing from his bag showed that she already had!
When Ben told Mrs Jenkins about a jackass being in the playground, she didn’t believe him until she’d looked out of the staff room window and checked for herself. And even when she phoned the RSPCA she still kept shaking her head and staring out of the window as if she couldn’t believe her own eyes!
After the morning break, it was impossible to do any work. Everyone was too busy staring out of the classroom windows at the solitary figure in the playground. Splitter the jackass stood all alone. And even though Ben thought Splitter was a bullying dork, he still felt kind of sorry for him.
Ben’s conscience poked and prodded and gnawed away at him until at last he felt he had to say something. Slowly he put his hand up.
‘Yes, Ben? What is it?’ asked Mr Archer.
‘Sir, I know where the jackass came from,’ Ben said reluctantly.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s . . . it’s Splitter. He’s been changed into a jackass so all the teachers can see what he’s really like.’
Mr Archer scowled as the rest of the class howled with laughter.
‘Very funny, Ben. Up here! Now!’
‘But, sir . . .’ Ben protested.
‘NOW!’
And once again Ben found himself swapping places with Thea and sitting in front of the teacher’s desk.
‘I don’t know what’s got into you over the last couple of days, Ben Sinclair,’ Mr Archer said testily. ‘But you can just get it out again! I won’t stand for such behaviour.’
‘No, sir,’ Ben said, miserably.
What else can go wrong? Ben thought with a silent sigh.
He was going to find out!
Chapter Eleven
Taking a Risk
AT LUNCH TIME, Mr Archer made Ben sit outside the staff room for being cheeky.
‘Whizziwig, wake up!’ Ben shook his bag gently. ‘Please wake up!’
‘What is the matter?’ Whizziwig asked crossly. ‘Granting sixteen wishes at once is very tiring. You should try it some time.’
‘Whizziwig—’ Ben got no further, for just at that moment the staff room door opened and Mrs Jenkins strode out. Whizziwig only just managed to duck down into Ben’s bag without being seen.
‘Mrs Jenkins, can I ask you something?’ Ben said.
‘Oh, er . . . yes, Ben?’
‘What will happen to Splitt— I mean, the jackass in the playground when the RSPCA take him?’ asked Ben.
‘Well, the RSPCA will look after him for a short while, but if they can’t find somewhere permanent for the donkey to stay, I guess . . . I guess they’ll have to put him down,’ said Mrs Jenkins.
‘Put him down?’ Ben was shocked.
‘It is the kindest thing they can do in the circumstances.’ Mrs Jenkins placed an understanding hand on Ben’s shoulder.
‘How long will they wait before they do that?’ Ben could hardly get the words out.
‘A couple of weeks?’ Mrs Jenkins shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’ve got to go, Ben. Talk to Mr Archer if you have any more questions.’
And Mrs Jenkins marched off.
Ben swallowed hard and had to keep swallowing to stop himself from being sick. They were going to put Splitter to sleep – for ever.
‘Whizziwig, you must do something . . .’ Ben whispered urgently once he was sure the coast was clear. Ben struggled to remember something that Whizziwig had said to him when they’d first met.
‘Whizziwig, didn’t you say something about your wishes lasting ninety thousand odd yenvings except in special circumstances?’ Ben remembered.
‘That’s true, but—’ Whizziwig began.
‘This is a special circumstance,’ Ben interrupted. ‘So you must change him back.’
‘I can only revoke one of my wishes in extremely special and hazardous circumstances,’ Whizziwig said. ‘And you are not asking me to revoke one of my wishes, but sixteen of them.’
‘We have no choice,’ Ben pleaded. ‘We must change Splitter back.’
‘I might be able to do it but I don’t know if I’ll be able to reactivate afterwards.’
‘What does that mean?’ Ben asked. He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it didn’t sound too good.
‘It means,’ said Whizziwig gently, ‘that if I do reverse all those wishes at once, it will drain my energy so much that I’ll shut down immediately . . . but I don’t know if I’ll have enough energy to wake up again.’
Ben stared at Whizziwig, horrified.
‘If this happened on my home planet of Oricon, I would be taken to the reactivation centre and would be fully functional again within forty-four thousand yenvings, but as it is . . .’ Whizziwig didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t have to.
‘What are we going to do?’ Ben asked, stricken.
Whizziwig smiled. ‘As you said, we cannot let Splitter be put down. It is a risk I shall have to take. But I am doing it for you, not for Splitter.’
Ben shook his head miserably. Even as a jackass, Splitter was still causing all kinds of
trouble. For a second Ben was tempted to tell Whizziwig to forget about Splitter and save herself, but he knew he couldn’t do that. If anything happened to Splitter, Ben would never forgive himself. But what about Whizziwig?
‘I had better get started,’ sighed Whizziwig. ‘This is going to take some time.’
And she ducked down into Ben’s backpack.
Ben spent a very miserable lunch time, frequently glancing down at his watch and wondering if he was letting Whizziwig do the right thing. Deep down, he knew he was but that didn’t make things any easier.
Occasionally, Ben whispered to his bag, ‘Whizziwig, are you OK?’
And she replied, ‘I’m working!’
But as time went on, her voice began to fade and her words grew softer and softer.
‘Ben, the RSPCA have arrived. They’re going to take Splitter away.’ Steven hopped up and down in front of Ben. ‘We’ve got to do something.’
‘Whizziwig is working on it,’ Ben said. He had to swallow hard before he could say anything else. ‘Where’re the RSPCA now?’
‘In the playground with Splitter,’ Steven replied, still hopping about anxiously.
Ben and Steven ran into the nearest classroom which overlooked the playground. There, three teachers – including Mr Archer – and three RSPCA officials were trying to load Splitter the jackass into a small horse-box. But Splitter wasn’t having any! He kicked and brayed and tossed his head and made it impossible for anyone to get near him.
‘Hold him!’
‘Watch out!’
‘Mind his back legs!’
Even from where Ben was standing he could hear the grown-ups calling out to each other.
Splitter the jackass spun around and kicked out like a bucking bronco in a Wild West film, then he made a break for it towards the playground toilets.
‘Stop! Come back!’ The RSPCA and the teachers gave chase.
Ben closed his eyes, but opened them immediately. It was even more nerve-racking not seeing what was going on!
‘Splitter’s disappeared round the corner,’ Steven told him breathlessly. ‘He must be hiding in one of the loos.’
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