Alex, the Dog and the Unopenable Door

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Alex, the Dog and the Unopenable Door Page 5

by Ross Montgomery


  ‘Er … yeah,’ said Alex.

  ‘Then that was a really insensitive thing to say,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah!’ Alex shouted, nodding helplessly. ‘Totally!’

  Martha turned to face the window absent-mindedly. She didn’t seem to be bothered by how much Alex was sweating.

  ‘Actually I don’t mind being Second Horn,’ she said. ‘I still get some good bits, and there’s less pressure. Plus it means I don’t have to sit behind Trent Davis. He plays piccolo. He’s a reprobate and he stinks of farts.’

  A head popped up from across the aisle. ‘Shut up, Martha.’

  Martha ignored him and turned back to Alex. ‘So why are you in Conduct Yourselves?’

  Alex thought fast. ‘Me? I just, like, love beating people up,’ he said. ‘It’s brilliant.’

  Martha shrugged. ‘Yeah, the other kids here are like that too. Not me though. I just keep getting into fights. My parents think I do it on purpose.’

  ‘Cool!’ said Alex.

  ‘It’s not cool!’ Martha snapped. ‘I don’t want to be here. I’m no bully. I’m just sick of bigger kids thinking they can boss me about.’

  Alex sighed. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I know what you mean.’

  ‘I stick up for myself, that’s all,’ she said. ‘If I went around picking fights I’d be no better than Trent Davis, and he’s a reprobate who stinks of farts.’

  The head popped up again. ‘Shut up, Martha!’

  ‘You shut up, Trent!’ she snapped back.

  ‘Then stop saying I stink of farts!’ Trent shouted.

  ‘I’ll say whatever I damn well please!’ Martha shouted back, standing up in her seat. ‘Got a problem with that and I’ll punch your lights out!’

  Alex tugged at her socks nervously. ‘Er, Martha, I don’t think …’

  ‘Sit down, Martha!’ someone shouted wearily.

  ‘Yeah, sit down, Martha,’ Trent sneered. ‘And stop shouting so much … don’t want your false teeth to fall out, do we?’

  Everyone howled with laughter. Martha’s face turned beetroot red, and she quickly sat down again. Alex looked at her with confusion. She was making a concerted effort not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trent sensed his moment and leaped across the aisle, snatching a rucksack from the luggage rack.

  ‘Don’t!’ Martha cried furiously, tugging it back. But she was too late. Trent had ripped open the top and grabbed something from inside, and was now waving it above his head for all to see. The bus howled with laughter. Alex looked up. It was a small carton of soup. A single plastic spoon had been carefully Sellotaped to its side. Trent leaned down and waved it in front of Martha’s face.

  ‘More soup, Grandma?’

  Her response was so quick that Alex barely saw it happening. In a moment Martha had swung out her leg and stamped the carton against Trent’s chest, bursting it open and spraying the surrounding eight rows in an enormous sloppy geyser of carrot and coriander. Everyone screamed and leaped out of their seats.

  ‘You idiot, Martha!’

  ‘You’re dead!’

  ‘Get her!’

  ‘Wait!’ someone shouted.

  Everyone stopped. A few seats ahead, an older girl was standing up, holding her arms out over the crowd.

  ‘We’re stopping,’ she murmured. ‘The bus. It’s stopping.’

  Everyone froze. Alex’s hair stood on end. She was right – the bus was slowing down.

  ‘What’s going on?’ said Martha.

  The bus ground to a halt. The children began muttering with confusion, piling over each other and wiping the soup off the windows to look outside. Either side of the bus were empty fields. They were in the middle of nowhere.

  ‘Where are we?’ someone said. ‘This isn’t the Baboon Sanctuary.’

  Everyone suddenly started talking at once. Alex’s face drained of all colour, and he sank into his chair, his heart racing. They had stopped the bus. They’d found him.

  ‘Oh crikey,’ he whimpered.

  A wail of feedback suddenly came out over the bus speakers, silencing the crowd of muttering children. Steph was standing at the front with a microphone.

  ‘Settle down, everyone!’ she announced, waving her hands. ‘In your seats, everyone! I need quiet. I have a very important – Oliver I said quiet! – a very important announcement to tell you all.’

  A hush finally descended on the bus. Steph paused for a moment, brushing her hair behind her ears.

  ‘First of all,’ she said, ‘I’d like to reassure you that I’ve just spoken to Tania’s mother at the hospital and she says she’s going to be fine. They’re cutting her hair out of the bike wheels this afternoon.’

  There was a polite round of applause.

  ‘But more importantly,’ she continued, ‘I have some news that you may find shocking.’ She paused to take a breath. ‘We will not be performing at the Howler Woods Baboon Day Celebrations this afternoon.’

  A series of dramatic chords came swelling from a huge organ at the front of the bus. Steph sighed and rubbed her temples.

  ‘Clarissa, was that entirely necessary?’

  ‘Sorry,’ came a quiet voice.

  She pointed angrily down the aisle. ‘Go and sit with Noah.’

  A young girl with glasses got up and slumped reluctantly down the gangway. Steph turned back to the bus.

  ‘I repeat,’ she said. ‘We are not going to be performing at Howler Woods Baboon Sanctuary.’

  ‘But we’ve been learning our parts for months!’ someone cried at the front. Everyone muttered in agreement.

  ‘We won’t be performing at Howler Woods,’ Steph said carefully, waving them quiet, ‘because, in fact, we’ve been booked to play another concert all along. A top-secret one.’

  A mutter of intrigue fluttered over the seats. Steph smiled.

  ‘The Howler Woods concert was a cover-up,’ she said breathlessly, ‘for something far more important. Something so important that we had to keep the fact a complete secret … even from you. Even I didn’t know the whole truth – I only found out the location this morning.’

  Steph took the opportunity for another dramatic pause. There was total silence.

  ‘We have been asked’, she said slowly, a smile stealing across her face, ‘to perform for none other than Davidus Kyte!’

  The bus gasped with excitement. Alex’s stomach flipped.

  ‘… Davidus Kyte?’ he said.

  ‘Davidus Kyte!’ cried Martha.

  ‘Why?’ came a shout from the front.

  ‘Conduct Yourselves orchestra’, said Steph, waving her quiet, ‘have been asked to perform at the grounds of the Grand Expedition Centre the day after tomorrow.’

  There were a handful of gasps across the bus.

  ‘The Grand Expedition Centre!’ someone shouted. ‘Does that mean …?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Stephanie laughed. ‘You’re all going to the Cusp!’

  The bus went wild. In one moment everyone had leaped from their seats, shaking their neighbour in disbelief. The Cusp! They were going to see the Cusp! Everyone knew someone who knew someone who had once talked to a person who had been inside the Cusp, but to see it with their own eyes … to pass the rows of security fences and enter the top-secret base, and stand within a stone’s throw of the Forbidden Land itself? It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Within seconds the whole bus had taken the opportunity to grab whatever instruments were to hand, and were playing out a glorious, rambling celebration march that shook the windows of the bus and made Steph’s microphone send out another earsplitting wail of feedback. The incident with the soup was forgotten. No one wanted to fight now. They were going to the Cusp. They were the luckiest children in the world.

  With one exception.

  ‘Oh crikey,’ Alex muttered, as the bus pulled off and made its way down the barren road ahead.

  Part Two

  The Cusp

  6

  ‘What do you mean, they’re not here?!’

  M
atthew the Headmaster stared in horror at the giant baboon across the counter. It was wearing a shirt and tie. The shirt had a label on the chest pocket that said ‘Information’. The tie had bananas on it. The baboon mumbled something apologetic.

  ‘For the last time, I can’t hear you with that stupid thing on!’ Matthew snapped.

  The baboon sighed and pulled its head off. Underneath was a much smaller head, belonging to a middle-aged man. His glasses were steamed up. He took them off and wiped them with a tissue.

  ‘I said,’ the man repeated, ‘there’s no orchestra here. Period.’

  ‘There must be,’ Matthew begged.

  ‘Check if you want!’ the man snorted, jerking his thumb behind him. Matthew looked over his shoulder. Howler Woods Baboon Sanctuary was a handful of cages surrounding an empty stage. If there was an orchestra inside, then it was very well hidden. Officer Mike shoved Matthew aside.

  ‘Let me explain,’ he said, leaning over the counter. ‘One of this man’s pupils was supposed to be playing in a concert here today. He’s with a youth orchestra, something to do with behavioural issues …’

  The man in the baboon suit shook his head. ‘Never heard of them. There’s never been a booking for an orchestra here.’

  Officer Duncan’s head popped up from behind Mike’s shoulder.

  ‘So if they’re not here,’ he asked meekly, ‘then … where have they gone?’

  The man in the baboon suit shrugged. ‘Beats me.’

  All four men stood in silence. The only sound was the occasional sad honk of a baboon in the distance. A drizzle started falling.

  ‘Mike,’ said Officer Duncan. ‘We are in so much trouble.’

  ‘Shut up, Duncan,’ Mike snapped.

  Matthew turned away and put his head in his hands. The last hour had passed like a terrible nightmare. Once they’d injected Jeremy’s backside with enough adrenalin to stop the allergic reaction – and he’d finished crying – he’d explained about Alex stealing the horn and taking his place on the bus for the Howler Woods Baboon Day Concert. They’d all shot to the police car only to find that the locks had been glued in – another new addition to the ever-growing list of First Day pranks, apparently. Matthew had dragged Laurence Davy out of detention and told him he’d be expelled if he didn’t break into the car for them.

  Matthew looked up at the darkening clouds above him. It was his first day as a headmaster. He’d already turned up late, hospitalised a child with a bike, sent another into anaphylactic shock, forced one to commit an arrestable crime and sent another on a run from the law …

  And yet all he could think about was the look in Alex’s eyes as he’d been dragged away.

  At that moment, his phone started ringing. Matthew took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. He gulped.

  ‘Oh no,’ he said, turning to the policemen. ‘It’s the school.’

  The policemen winced. Matthew stared at the phone like it was a knife he had decided to stab himself with. He answered it with gritted teeth.

  ‘… Hello?’

  ‘Matthew!’ It was Mrs Beaumont. She sounded furious. ‘Where on earth have you gone?!’

  ‘Ah, Mrs Beaumont,’ Matthew said, wrapping himself against the drizzle and stepping away from the policemen. ‘… How are you?’

  ‘How am I?’ she spluttered. ‘Matthew, you’re supposed to be here dealing with troublemakers – the whole place is in chaos! Where have you gone?’

  ‘Where have I gone?’ Matthew repeated nervously, looking around him. ‘I’m, er … I’m at Howler Woods.’

  There was a heavy silence.

  ‘… Howler Woods, the Baboon Sanctuary?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Matthew.

  There was a pause.

  ‘Why, Matthew?’

  ‘We’ve, er …’ Matthew took a glance back at the policemen. They seemed to be having a heated argument. ‘Well, we’ve lost Alex Jennings, Mrs Beaumont.’

  He was met with silence.

  ‘… You what?’

  ‘We’ve lost Alex Jennings,’ he repeated. His heart sank. It made it sound even more real to say it again. ‘He ran away. And no one knows where he is.’

  Mrs Beaumont was silent. Matthew stood in the drizzle. His blazer was slowly soaking through.

  ‘Matthew,’ she began again. Her voice was wound like an iron spring. ‘This is a matter for the police, not for you. Let them get on with their job and come back here at once.’

  Matthew glanced around at the policemen. They were still arguing in the rain behind him.

  ‘You don’t understand, Mrs Beaumont,’ said Matthew. ‘The way he looked at me when they took him away … it was like I’d failed him. And now he’s out there, frightened, with nowhere to go …’

  ‘Headmaster,’ she interrupted furiously, ‘I can’t listen to this for a moment more! Get back to your school this instant and …’

  Someone tapped Matthew on the shoulder. He turned around. The policemen were standing nervously, waiting for him to finish.

  ‘I have to go, Mrs Beaumont,’ said Matthew. ‘I’ll speak to you later.’

  ‘Matthew! …’

  Matthew cut the phone off and turned back to the policemen. They both seemed extremely tense.

  ‘Mr Price,’ said Officer Mike, ‘we really have to get going.’

  Matthew nodded. ‘Yes, of course we do,’ he said. ‘Where do you suggest we go now? The police station?’

  Officer Mike shifted uncomfortably. Behind him, Officer Duncan was beginning to squirm.

  ‘We really don’t need your help any more, Mr Price,’ said Officer Mike. ‘But thanks for the offer. We’ll drop you back at the school now if you don’t mind.’

  Matthew sighed. The rain was falling heavier now. He would have to fill out all the paperwork on Alex’s disappearance.

  ‘Yes,’ he said sadly. ‘I suppose you’re right. I guess I should really get back to w––’

  ‘We’re not really police officers!’ Officer Duncan suddenly cried out.

  Officer Mike looked as if he’d had his legs kicked out from under him. Matthew did a double take.

  ‘Er … pardon?’

  ‘Nothing!’ Mike quickly shouted.

  ‘… Did you just say you’re not police officers?’ said Matthew suspiciously.

  ‘No, no!’ Mike laughed, gripping Duncan’s arm a little too tightly. ‘My colleague here is just a little confused, aren’t you Officer Duncan …’

  ‘I’m not Officer Duncan!’ he cried, throwing himself forward and grabbing Matthew by the lapels. ‘I’m just Duncan! Duncan! I’m not a police officer, and neither is he!’

  ‘Shut up, you idiot!’ Mike hissed, dragging him off Matthew. ‘Don’t you realise what you’re saying?’

  ‘I can’t take the lies any more, Mike!’ Duncan cried. ‘I thought I could, but I can’t! They’re just confusing my head!’

  ‘So …’ said Matthew slowly. ‘You’re not policemen …’

  ‘No!’ said Duncan. ‘It’s all lies! We stole the outfits and the car!’

  Matthew’s jaw dropped. ‘… You what?’ he said.

  ‘We work for Davidus Kyte!’ Duncan wailed.

  ‘You idiot!’ Mike roared, shoving Duncan aside. ‘Shut up before you make it any worse!’

  ‘It can’t get any worse, Mike!’ cried Duncan, shoving him back. ‘We’ve lost the boy! There’s no way we can get him to the Cusp before tomorrow night … Davidus is going to kill us, Mike! Kill us!’

  The man fell to his knees in the car park, burying his face in his hands. Mike looked like he was strongly considering punching him, but managed to contain it. Matthew stared at them both in disbelief.

  ‘So then Alex’s father …’ he said quietly.

  ‘He’s disappeared!’ Duncan wailed from behind his hands. ‘When he broke into the base the other night, they lost him – nobody has a clue where he is! He could be anywhere!’

  Mike shook him with fury. ‘Shut up, you moron!’
/>   ‘It was all Kyte’s idea,’ Duncan continued, undeterred. ‘He thought that if he had the boy, then he could use him to get Jennings back without anyone finding out he’d messed up!’

  ‘Shut up, Duncan!’

  Matthew started trembling. ‘But the letter from the Grand High Pooh-Bah …’

  ‘It’s a fake!’ cried Duncan. ‘Just a telephone bill! That I haven’t paid!’

  ‘And Alex’s mother …?’ said Matthew quietly.

  ‘Duncan!’ Mike warned.

  ‘She has no idea!’ Duncan wailed.

  Mike slapped himself with despair and rolled his eyes.

  Matthew’s eyes widened. ‘You were … kidnapping him?’

  ‘Great!’ Mike snapped, throwing Duncan to the ground. ‘Nice going, Officer Dipstick. Now we have to kidnap him, too.’

  Matthew started. ‘What? Kidnap me?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Mike, shaking his head. ‘Thanks to Constable Blabbermouth here. Duncan, give me the handcuffs.’

  ‘Y-you don’t have to kidnap me,’ Matthew stammered, his eyes darting about the car park. ‘I didn’t hear anything. Honest. Just let me go and I won’t say a thing.’

  Mike snorted. ‘Yeah, right. Duncan, give me the handcuffs already. We can keep him in the boot of the car.’

  ‘I don’t have them,’ said Duncan, standing up and wiping his eyes. Mike bristled.

  ‘Yes you do.’

  ‘I don’t!’

  ‘I gave you the handcuffs this morning.’

  ‘Yeah, they’re in my coat pocket.’

  ‘Where’s your coat?’

  ‘In the car.’

  Mike sighed. ‘What did you leave it in the car for?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  ‘What have I told you about leaving the handcuffs in the car?’ Mike snapped. ‘Anything could happen. For Pete’s sake, let’s just get them and kidnap him now before anything else goes wro––’

  Mike froze. The man in the baboon suit was strolling towards them. They all stared silently as he came to a stop beside them and rocked on his heels, leisurely eating a microwave pasty.

  ‘Everything OK, officers?’ he asked, munching at the pasty. Mike and Duncan shared a glance.

 

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