by Sam Copeland
‘Mum …’
Charlie was walking down the school corridor with two of his three best friends, Mohsen and Wogan.
‘You serious? You actually turned into a spider?’ Mohsen said to Charlie, eyes wide.
‘You believe me?’ said Charlie with relief in his voice. ‘My mum didn’t.’
‘Course she didn’t. Adults never believe anything. That’s what friends are for,’ Mohsen said wisely.
Mohsen had a PS4 AND an X-box, but he had five sisters so that balanced out, Charlie thought.
Mohsen and Charlie had become best friends on their first day of reception when Charlie had been too shy to ask to go to the toilet and – well, you can guess what happened. You don’t need it spelled out. It happens to everybody, OK? Even your mum or dad have had a little accident in their pants at one time or another. Go and ask them, if you don’t believe me. Yes, right now. Go on. I’ll wait.
…
…
…
I told you they had. And if they are reading this book out loud to you, have a look to see if they are blushing. If they are blushing, they definitely remember having an accident in their pants. And if they aren’t blushing, they are probably not human and are almost certainly ROBOTS, in which case you need to check by tickling them. If they laugh, they are human, because robots aren’t ticklish.
Anyway, back in reception, Mohsen had been kind and hadn’t laughed at Charlie and had helped him to the toilet. Charlie had tears pricking at his eyes, but Mohsen had told him how he had pooed his own pants on the bus a few weeks earlier and the whole bus smelled of poo, and that made Charlie laugh and from that moment on they had been best friends.
‘So you were like Spider-Man?’ Wogan said, his eyes as wide as Mohsen’s.
Wogan was the second of Charlie’s best friends, and he was awesome at football but all the girls in his year kept trying to kiss him, so that balanced out, thought Charlie. Wogan was tall with unruly hair.
‘No. Not at all,’ Charlie replied. ‘Spider-Man is a human with the powers of a spider because he got bitten by a radioactive spider. Spider-Man was as big as a human and looked like a human. I was the size of a spider and looked like a spider. I had eight legs. I wasn’t Spider-Man. I was just …’ Charlie thought for a moment. ‘I was just … Spider, I suppose.’
The three boys pondered this as they approached their classroom.
‘So, why did it happen, then?’ Wogan asked. ‘You know, Spider-Man got bitten by a spider, the Incredible Hulk got radioactivized, and Iron Man got hit on the head by an iron when he was a baby.’
‘That’s not how Iron Man became Iron Man, Wogan,’ Mohsen said, shaking his head. ‘I know what your brother told you but it’s not true. Anyway, Iron Man doesn’t count because he doesn’t even have special powers like Charlie. He’s just rich and puts on a robot suit.’
‘I don’t have special powers. It’s just something that happened,’ said Charlie glumly.
‘Whatever,’ Wogan said, waving his hand at Mohsen. ‘It doesn’t answer the question. Why did it happen, Charlie?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charlie replied. ‘But I need you guys to help me find out. And Flora too.’
‘No. Not Flora. Please, no,’ Mohsen and Wogan groaned.
Flora Fawner was Charlie’s other best friend.
‘She’ll mess everything up. And she’s scary,’ Mohsen pleaded.
‘She’s not scary,’ Charlie argued half-heartedly. ‘She’s … normal,’ he added, uncertainly.
Wogan groaned again. ‘Yeah, right. Sure.’
‘Yeah, she’s totally and completely one hundred per cent normal,’ Mohsen scoffed.
‘Well, she’s our friend. And she’s brave,’ Charlie pointed out.
Mohsen and Wogan could not disagree with that. She was easily the bravest of the four of them. Last summer, a bee had flown in through the window of the shed they were all playing in. Charlie, Mohsen and Wogan had run out screaming. Flora, ice-cool, had picked up a cup and, calm as anything, trapped the bee against the window, picked up a piece of paper, slid it in between the window and the cup, and lifted the cup away with the bee trapped inside, walked slowly down the stairs to the front door, and let the bee out, off to bee freedom. The boys had stood staring at her in open-mouthed awe.
Whenever there were bullies, Flora stepped in. Who had sorted it when some boys from the year above were taking Mohsen’s snack bar every break? Flora. She hadn’t done anything violent – she had merely sauntered up to the ringleader and whispered something in his ear. The boy had turned pale and immediately run away. He never bothered Mohsen again and they never did find out what she whispered in his ear.
Flora might be scary, but she was certainly brave. They needed Flora.
And as they walked into the classroom, there she was, sitting happily by herself. Today, she was wearing five different-coloured hairbands. Wedged in between the hairbands, poking their furry heads out, were some little toy trolls. Flora had dyed the hair of the little trolls black.
You might have noticed at this point that there has been no description of Charlie in this book. There are drawings of him in the book, but he doesn’t ACTUALLY look like that. It’s what’s called an ‘artist’s impression’. That’s somebody else’s idea of what Charlie looks like. Maybe you think he looks totally different. Perhaps you have already imagined him in your head.
Close your eyes and try to imagine what Charlie looks like.
Actually that’s a silly idea. Don’t close your eyes or else you won’t be able to read the book.
Leave your eyes completely wide open and try to imagine what Charlie looks like.
Maybe you imagined he has blue eyes and blond hair.
Wrong!
Maybe you imagined he was tall and strong with cool sticky-up hair.
Wrong!
Maybe you imagined he has purple hair and a big furry moustache.
VERY wrong.
You’re ALL wrong (apart from Evie Fairweather of 27 Wildebeest Street, Bumshufflington-on-Tweed. Well done, Evie!).
The truth is he’s ALL of these descriptions. Charlie looks however you want him to look. He might look like the face waving back at you out of the mirror. He might look like your brother. It doesn’t really matter what I say he looks like. It’s what he looks like in your mind that matters.
So you go ahead and keep imagining Charlie however you want.
I realize this will make dressing up as Charlie for fancy dress very difficult. So I’ll tell you one thing that is real about him.
He has a scar on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt.
What do you mean that’s been done before?
It’s not easy thinking of books, you know. You try writing one.
Anyway, back to Chapter 3.
‘So … you’re like Spider-Man?’ Flora said, frowning seriously. They were all sitting in the playground in a huddle near the wooden climbing frame.
‘No!’ answered Charlie, slapping his forehead. ‘We’ve been through this already. I was nothing like Spider-Man. I was a spider. I turned into a spider.’
‘Hmm,’ replied Flora, deep in thought. ‘And you’re sure you weren’t dreaming?’
‘Of course I’m sure!’ Charlie said, clearly exasperated. ‘I was nearly eaten by Chairman Meow!’
‘And this happened after you got back from hospital? From visiting your brother?’
‘Yes! Straight after.’
‘Hmm.’ Flora rubbed her chin, thinking hard. ‘Hmm.’
‘What does “hmm” mean?’
‘It’s a noise people make when they’re thinking,’ Flora said in a do-you-really-not-know-that voice. ‘Have you never heard someone say –’
‘Yes, I know what “hmm” actually means. I meant, what did you mean when you hmmed. You hmmed twice.’
‘Oh! I see. Well,’ Flora replied, a knowing look on her face, ‘I think I know what caused this.’
‘You do?’ Mohsen said, wide
-eyed. Mohsen was often wide-eyed.
‘You do?’ said Wogan, normal-eyed.
‘You do?’ asked Charlie, narrow-eyed.
Basically there was a lot of eye action going on.
‘I do. It’s obvious.’
‘OK then, Miss Smarty-pants, what’s going on?’ Mohsen said, crossing his arms.
‘So, Charlie, you changed into a spider straight after you were at the hospital, correct?’
Charlie nodded. ‘Yup.’
‘Well … I think maybe when you went to see your brother you sat on a needle and accidentally injected your bum with some sort of crazy medicine.’
‘I sat on a –? I think I would have noticed if I sat on a needle and injected my bum with crazy medicine!’
‘Not necessarily,’ Mohsen said gravely. ‘I once had an injection on my bum and I hardly felt it.’
‘Exactly!’ Flora thumped her palm.
‘That’s completely crazy!’ Charlie shouted in disbelief.
‘No more crazy than turning into a spider,’ Flora said quickly.
Wogan and Mohsen nodded solemnly in agreement.
‘OK, tell me one thing.’ Charlie held up a finger to illustrate his point. ‘Just tell me one thing … WHY WOULD A HOSPITAL HAVE CRAZY MEDICINE THAT TURNS PEOPLE INTO SPIDERS?’
This question was met with silence.
‘He has a point,’ said Mohsen.
‘Maybe …’ said Wogan. ‘Maybe it was medicine that was supposed to turn spiders into people and – actually, forget that.’
‘Well, I don’t know!’ Flora held her hands up. ‘It was just a suggestion. I think the only thing we can do is keep an eye on you as much as possible, so we can pick you up and keep you safe if it happens again. And we definitely do not want this happening at the school play.’
In a few weeks Charlie was due to take a starring role in the school play as Sad Potato Number 1.
Yes, that’s right. Sad Potato Number 1.
Charlie groaned. ‘Oh no! I hadn’t even thought of that. What happens if I change into a spider in front of the whole school?’
‘Don’t worry.’ Flora patted Charlie’s hand reassuringly. ‘It probably won’t happen again.’
‘Yeah. I’m absolutely sure it won’t happen again. But we should definitely keep an eye on you,’ said Mohsen sensibly. ‘You know – just in case. Except we can’t do that when you’re at home. So you’ll have to tell your parents.’
‘I can’t tell my parents,’ cried Charlie. ‘I tried telling my mum but she didn’t believe me. And, thinking about it, I don’t want to tell them. They’ve got enough to worry about. SmoothMove’s got his big scan coming up soon and they’re pretty worried, I think. If it doesn’t go well, he’ll have to have another operation and then he could be in hospital for ages more.’
Nobody replied for a moment.
‘Look,’ said Flora. ‘If you want to talk about it, we’re all here for you.’
Mohsen and Wogan nodded.
‘No,’ replied Charlie quickly, blinking. ‘Thanks. I’ll just have to make sure that I shut my bedroom door if it happens again. So Chairman Meow or The Great Catsbyfn1 don’t get in.’
All agreed that this was a very sensible course of action.
But, in fact, Charlie needn’t have worried about turning into a spider at home again. What he should have been worrying about was turning into a pigeon at school.
Because that’s exactly what happened a few days later.
All had been quiet for a week or so. Charlie hadn’t changed into any animals. School was still school. His parents were still parenting. SmoothMove was still in hospital waiting for his scan. Wogan and Mohsen were still slightly scared of Flora.
But on a slow Wednesday afternoon, during a times table test, it happened again.
‘Hey, Charlie!’
This was Dylan. Dylan van der Gruyne was the class bully, and he hated Charlie more than anybody else in the school.
‘Hey, Charlie!’ Dylan whispered again loudly
‘What?’ Charlie whispered back, knowing what was coming because he was talking to Dylan and Dylan never said anything nice to anybody.
‘You smell like a frog’s bum!’
Dylan sniggered to himself.
‘No, I don’t. Anyway, what does a frog’s bum smell like? It might smell nice for all you know.’
Even as Charlie was saying that he realized it probably wasn’t the smartest comeback.
‘Hey, Teddy!’ Dylan hissed at the boy next to him. Teddy was Dylan’s best friend and he had a large house, and his mum drove a big Range Rover but Teddy wasn’t ever allowed to call her Mum – Teddy had to call her by her name, Lou-Lou. ‘Charlie thinks frog bums smell nice. Charlie sniffs frog bums!’
Teddy burst out laughing.
‘WHATISTHEMEANINGOFTHISYOUAREDOINGATESTANDIASKEDFORSILENCE.’
That was the teacher, Mr Wind. Arthur Wind was really old – forty-something – and he had grey hair and was pretty nice most of the time, apart from:
a) Whenever his football team, Birmingham United, lost.
b) Whenever Ms Fyre, the head teacher, was off sick.
c) Whenever people laughed during a test while he was on his phone sending text messages (possibly text messages to Ms Fyre, but we can’t be certain about that). They were doing a test and Mr Wind was on his phone.
‘YOUKNOWI ASKEDFORSILENCEBUTICANHEARGIGGLINGWHATONEARTHISGOINGON?’
Whenever Mr Wind was angry he spoke very fast and without punctuation. What he actually said was:
‘You know I asked for silence, but I can hear giggling. What on earth is going on?’
None of the children said anything in reply.
‘The next peep I hear out of anyone will have them sent quick-sharp to Ms Fyre to explain themselves.’
Ms Fyre was tall, well-dressed and huge-haired. When she smiled, which she only ever did just before she was about to explode with fury, her curled lips revealed vast pale gums and intimidating slabs of teeth. They were teeth designed for pulling chunks of meat off thigh bones. Her office was always warm and stuffy, which made sweat prickle down children’s backs as they stood anxiously waiting for her to speak. The oppressive heat was also perfect for the many orchid plants that were dotted around her office. The orchids were Ms Fyre’s babies, and she seemed to care an awful lot more for them than she did for the children in her school. The heat and the orchids gave the office something of a jungle feel: steamy, unpleasant and somewhere you’d be lucky to get out of alive.
A moment later, something hit Charlie on the back of the head. Whatever it was, another one came, pranged off his ear and landed on the floor. It was a paper missile.
Another one hit his neck.
Dylan was pinging paper missiles at him using a rubber band as a catapult.
Charlie swung round.
‘Cut it out, Dylan!’ he whispered.
Dylan grinned at him. A grin that said: ‘I’m really not going to cut it out, but thanks for the feedback.’
Charlie turned back to his test again.
A few seconds later, another missile hit.
‘Just cut it out!’ Charlie whispered, but just that little bit too loudly.
‘RIGHTWHOWASTHAT,’ shouted Mr Wind.
Quick as a flash came the reply from Dylan:
‘It was Charlie, sir. He’s trying to distract me.’
‘RIGHT, CHARLIE MCGUFFIN, I WARNED YOU. YOU KNOW THE WAY TO MS FYRE’S OFFICE.’
Charlie tried protesting. ‘But, sir –’
‘Now, McGuffin!’ Mr Wind pointed to the door.
Charlie really tried, but he couldn’t help the prickling in his eyes turning to tears as he walked to the door. He risked a glance at Flora, who gave him a sympathetic smile, and that was it – the tears started flowing. As he shut the door behind him he could feel Dylan’s smug smile burning into him.
Charlie’s head h
ung low as he trudged down the corridor. Being sent to Ms Fyre meant a letter home to his parents.
They had enough to worry about with his brother, and now he was in deep trouble at school. He could already see the disappointment in their eyes. The thought made his stomach squirm and his heart begin to pound.
And that’s when his left eye started twitching.
Charlie didn’t think anything of it until the twitch spread to his other eye. Then, with a surge of horror, he realized what was coming. He was changing again.
The feeling burst through his whole body like an electric flower. It exploded inside him. Every part of his body was aflame, but with a fire that was squeezed and crushed through his veins and arteries and back out through every pore of his skin.
With considerable alarm Charlie saw he was growing feathers. Feathers! And the floor was coming towards him fast, which meant he was getting smaller. His legs were growing skinny, and attached to the bottom of the skinny legs were red feet.
And with a flap he saw that he had wings. He had wings.
A scream suddenly pierced his ears.
Ms Fyre was striding towards him, a look of total disgust on her face.
Charlie flapped in panic, and Ms Fyre gave another squeal of disgust. She had her arms spread, trying to corner him.
A door suddenly opened next to him. It was Maisie Wand from 1F and as soon as she saw Bird-Charlie she ran off down the corridor screaming. The door was swinging closed, but Charlie saw his opportunity and flapped his way through.
It was a bathroom. With another flap Charlie hopped on to the edge of the sink. And there, reflecting back at Charlie from the mirror, was a bird – a plump grey bird with an iridescent purple-and-green neck.
Charlie was a pigeon.
The door burst open and Ms Fyre stalked in, edging round Charlie to open the window. Then she started waving her arms at Charlie, trying to force him out.
Charlie didn’t need any more encouragement. With one beat of his wings he was at the window, and with another he was out and into the playground.
