Frankie Fish and the Sister Shemozzle

by Helliar Peter

  ‘She’s gone time-travelling,’ Frankie admitted, ‘and we don’t know where to.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure she’ll be back soon,’ said Nanna, not quite grasping the seriousness of the situation. ‘Now, I’m going to watch Dance Academy, if anyone wants to join me?’

  Frankie's eyes widened. ‘That’s it!’ he shouted. ‘That’s where Lou would go.’

  ‘To watch Dance Academy?’ said Drew.

  ‘No, to that Academy place in Ancient Greece,’ explained Frankie. Lou was always trying to talk to her family about the Academy over dinner. Frankie tried his best to tune it out but clearly some of it had seeped through. ‘The Academy set up by Pluto, or whatever he was called, where everyone talked about philosophy and stuff.’

  ‘I love Pluto,’ mused Drew. ‘And Goofy too.’

  ‘Lou was talking about Plato the other day,’ Nanna said brightly. ‘Apparently girls weren’t allowed in his Academy, but Lou was sure she could convince him to take her on as a student.’

  Frankie rolled his eyes. ‘Trust Lou to go time-travelling just so she can study.’

  Grandad glared at him. ‘We’ve no time for ye to be all persnickety,’ he said. ‘We need to work out which year to go to so we can find yer sister!’

  ‘Well, Lou said the Academy was around for several hundred years,’ said Nanna.

  ‘We haven’t got time to search through several hundred years!’ exploded Grandad.

  Just then, Frankie had a brainwave. Grabbing Lou’s phone, he opened up the most recent Google search. ‘Tenth year of the Platonic Academy 377 BC,’ he read out loud, then put the phone down triumphantly.

  ‘Let’s go then, Frankie,’ said Drew, clearly already dreaming of all the delicious Greek food he might get to sample along the way.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ said Grandad stoutly.

  ‘Wouldn’t you rather stay and eat the tripe?’ suggested Frankie. Somehow time-travel became a whole lot more complicated when Grandad was involved.

  ‘My granddaughter’s whereabouts are far more important than tripe!’ the old man flung back. ‘Besides, we can set the suitcase to bring us back in time to eat it.’

  ‘Great,’ said Drew, although he clearly didn’t think this was great at all.

  Grandad opened the suitcase and a beam of rainbow light spilled out. (This was another of Lou’s modifications – Frankie was sure she’d done it just to show off.) As he began setting the controls, Nanna said suddenly, ‘Wait here a moment. I’ve got some things that might come in handy for your trip.’

  She dashed back towards the house (well, an old-lady version of dashing) and returned with a pile of bed linen and the sculpture of Lou. ‘You can use these sheets to make togas,’ Nanna explained. ‘You can’t turn up at the Academy looking like that.’

  ‘Thanks, Nanna!’ Frankie said gratefully. If they turned up in their modern clothes, they’d stand out like Monster Trucks at a boat show.

  ‘You should take my sculpture too,’ she added. ‘It might be useful if you’re asking people if they’ve seen Lou.’

  ‘OK, but are you sure you can’t make a cookie version of Lou?’ asked Drew hopefully.

  Grandad gave Nanna a big smooch. ‘Yer a genius, Mavis,’ he said admiringly. ‘Always thinking of everything.’ Then he turned to Frankie and Drew (who were trying not to gag) and added, ‘Grab that translating doo-dad too, unless one of ye boys is fluent in Ancient Greek like Lou?’

  Quickly, Frankie picked up what looked like a standard padlock and clipped it onto the suitcase’s handle. This was yet another one of Lou’s inventions – a portable translator.

  Nanna stood back as the group prepared to go, and Frankie spotted the earpiece on the bench. Lou must have left it there. He gave it to Nanna.

  ‘If anything important comes up, you can contact us with this,’ he said, quickly showing her how to use it. Then he patted his own pocket to make sure he had his.

  He still couldn’t quite believe that his sister had gone. He frowned, feeling the weight of the task ahead of them. There were so many uncertainties. Finding Lou in Ancient Greece was going to be like playing Marco Polo in the Atlantic Ocean. Maybe Lou hadn’t gone to Ancient Greece at all, and if she had, maybe she hadn’t gone to 377 BC. And what if they never found her? Someone disappearing like this was bound to attract a lot of media attention. What if the world found out about the Sonic Suitcase? The consequences were unthinkable!

  Despite all of this, Frankie couldn’t help feeling at least a little bit excited about the prospect of a trip to Ancient Greece. Only one thing was for sure: they had a big adventure ahead of them.

  In unison, Frankie, Grandad and Drew uttered those important words:

  ‘Happy travels …’

  CHAPTER 5

  THERE ARE PLENTY OF FiSH IN THE SEA OF CRETE

  Imagine being stretched.

  Stretched like elastic-waisted track pants worn by a humpback whale. Stretched over time and space and through colours and numbers. Stretched like skin made of cling wrap that never, ever tears.

  Then imagine being shaken like you’ve been put into an empty jam jar and thrown about by a naughty toddler who just loves torturing the strange little bugs he has captured. Your brain feels like a milkshake made with every flavour of ice-cream ever. Your mind travels to the four corners of the globe before taking a spin around the galaxy.

  Your body flips, then flops, then flaps. Your toes touch your fingers. Sparks fly out of your bum (at least that’s what Drew Bird alleges later) as you ascend high above the earth, far above the galaxy to a place that has no sound. You swear you hear somebody say, ‘The milkshakes are ready,’ but you cannot be completely sure. Then you’re shot back down through the galaxy faster than the fastest cheetah in the universe.

  Yes, this is completely and utterly bizarre.

  This is time-travel!

  CHAPTER 6

  GREECE iS THE WORD

  Salty air, flowers and olive trees. That’s what Frankie smelled when he sat up after the extreme spin-cycle of time-travel had finally finished.

  On some of their previous time-travelling escapades, he, Grandad and Drew had landed on soft things, such as Norwegian mud or Scottish grass. This time, they’d landed on a cobbled street. It HURT.

  Frankie shook his head, trying to feel normal again, but to be honest he hardly ever felt normal anymore – not since he’d begun travelling back through time. But there was no denying that this trip felt different and more dangerous.

  Their previous trips had all been driven by curiosity: Grandad had wanted to know what life would be like if he never crashed his beloved sports car in the Big Race. The Texan Twins had handed Frankie a mystery in a bottle that he had to solve. Drew Bird simply had to find out what it felt like to beat Lisa Chadwick in the Halloween Parade.

  This time, however, it was not curiosity that had led them through time but ANGER – and the search for someone who might not even want to be found. The more Frankie thought about it, the more his annoyance turned to exasperation. Why would Saint Lou do such a stupid thing? She hadn’t even been interested in time-travelling before. For someone who acted like she was smarter than Albert Einstein, it seemed a PARTICULARLY dumb thing to do.

  As Frankie got to his feet, the ringing in his ears began to sound uncannily like trotting horses. That’s weird, thought Frankie, and then he had to leap out of the way of a chariot being pulled by two trotting horses.

  He crashed into Drew and the two boys went sprawling to the ground. They seemed to have arrived in a very busy place – so busy, that thankfully, no-one had noticed their sudden arrival.

  Grandad was sitting against a nearby tree, clutching the Sonic Suitcase. He looked a bit green. ‘I wish I hadn’t eaten some of that tripe before I cooked it,’ he grumbled as he stood up.

  ‘I’m glad I didn’t eat it after you cooked it,’ Drew muttered.

  ‘Where are we, exactly?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘We’re in the mighty city of A
thens!’ announced Grandad, spreading his arms wide and then wincing as he realised that such sudden movements made his joints ache.

  It was certainly an impressive sight. White pillared buildings rose dramatically from the streets, shining against the bluest sky Frankie had ever seen. Locals in flowing robes bustled to-and-fro. A woman walked by carrying a basket of eggs, a child toddling behind her. A man strolled along, whistling, leading a donkey loaded with baskets of pungent herbs. A group of small boys pointed at Frankie and burst out laughing as they ran off.

  Frankie had a pretty good idea why. Nanna had only had two plain white sheets, which had been quickly snaffled by the others. He’d ended up in the sheet with little bunnies on it.

  ‘I look ridiculous,’ he muttered, his face turning red.

  ‘No, you look great!’ insisted Drew. ‘Those bunnies are totally adorable.’

  ‘Oh, yeah?’ said Frankie, raising an eyebrow. ‘Wanna swap?’

  ‘I can’t, sorry,’ said Drew quickly. ‘I’m allergic.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Anyway, you don’t look nearly as ridiculous as your grandad. He’s wearing socks and sandals.’

  ‘Enough with the chit-chat,’ announced Grandad. ‘We’re here on a mission, remember?’

  ‘Sure, Grandad – where should we start looking?’ said Frankie grumpily. From what he could see, Athens was a very big city. Lou might have gone straight to the Academy, but really she could be anywhere.

  This was so typical of his sister. When most kids run away they just hide under the house, but that wasn’t enough for Lou. She had to run away to Ancient Greece. What a show-off!

  ‘We start by asking people if they’ve seen her.’ Grandad picked up the clay statue of Lou (which, luckily, had survived time-travelling unscathed). ‘This will help.’

  Drew rolled his eyes. ‘I hate to say it, but that doesn’t look much like Lou.’

  ‘Drew’s right, Grandad,’ Frankie agreed. ‘I’m her brother and I can’t recognise her in that lump of clay.’

  Grandad blew out his chest like a pufferfish preparing for a fight. ‘May I remind ye that this lump of clay was moulded by ME WIFE, who has done a bloody marvellous job.’ Grandad paused and looked fondly at the misshapen model. ‘If ye can’t see yer sister in this, Frankie, then I suggest ye get yer eyes tested. It’s CLEARLY a masterpiece.’

  ‘Okaaay then,’ said Frankie. He knew not to argue with the old crank-pot. Especially since the old crank-pot had just marched over to the parade of passers-by, the translating padlock swinging from his hook, and the statue clutched firmly in his hand.

  ‘DO YE RECOGNISE THIS GIRL?’ he shouted, waving the statue in the face of a young woman. Grandad seemed to think that talking loudly would help the padlock work better. What actually happened was that the padlock couldn’t make sense of his words and all that came out was loud static.

  The poor young woman took one look at Grandad and bolted.

  ‘Better let me handle this,’ said Drew, taking the sculpture from Grandad. ‘I have a way with people.’

  But the next passer-by – a muscly guy eating an apple while riding an even more muscly horse – didn’t even stop. As he rode off, he tossed his apple core over his shoulder. It would’ve bopped Drew right on the head, but luckily his hacky-sack experience had tuned up his reflexes. He quickly snapped it away with his foot.

  Nearby, someone clapped and laughed. Frankie, Drew and Grandad turned to see a man with a broad smile watching them. He was bald on top but had dark curls around the side, as if his hair had slipped from the top of his head. He was standing in the doorway of a junk shop. All kinds of weird objects were bursting from it – everything from worn-out carpets to slightly rusty knives and chipped plates.

  The man spoke, and the padlock did its translating trick. ‘That guy on the horse is a jerk,’ he said, and pointed to the sculpture in Drew’s hands. ‘What have you got there?’

  ‘It’s a sculpture of me granddaughter,’ said Grandad proudly. ‘Have ye seen her?’

  ‘Oh no, I thought it was a doorstopper.’ The man looked at it closely. ‘Who’s the artist?’

  ‘Nanna Fish,’ blurted Frankie, then wished he’d said something more Ancient-Greekish.

  ‘Interesting,’ said the man. ‘I’ve never heard of him.’

  ‘She’s a woman!’ said Grandad indignantly.

  The man’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘A woman artist? Come on, don’t mess with me,’ he said, roaring with laughter.

  ‘Where we’re from ANYONE can be an artist,’ Grandad snapped back. ‘Now look here, ye dirty great –’

  ‘Could you tell us where the Academy is?’ Frankie interrupted before the old man could lose it. Clearly, the sculpture was getting them nowhere. If they wanted to find Lou, they’d just have to go straight to the Academy and hope she was there.

  The man stared at them, wide-eyed. ‘You three want to visit the Academy?’ He said it as if Frankie had just asked if he knew a shortcut to the moon, then roared with laughter again.

  ‘What’s so funny about that?’ Frankie asked, bewildered.

  The pot-bellied man snickered. ‘The Academy is where the land’s greatest thinkers go to talk about their ideas with the gods. Only the most intelligent are allowed NEAR the place.’

  ‘I got a C-plus for my last science test – will that be enough?’ Drew asked hopefully.

  But Frankie’s shoulders slumped. He had lived for so long in the shadow of Saint Lou’s perfect school grades that he knew they had no chance. ‘Intelligent’ was not the first adjective Frankie would use to describe himself. It wasn’t even in the top fifty.

  Grandad crossed his arms. ‘Look, we’re not here for ye to rate our brainpower. We just want directions.’

  The local man rubbed his pot belly, looking thoughtful. Then a smirk stretched across his face. He reached out and plucked the statue from Drew. ‘Tell you what. I’ll tell you where the Academy is if I can keep this bit of junk. I’ll use it to prop open the door.’

  To Frankie and Drew, this seemed like a pretty good deal. But Grandad looked outraged. ‘Junk! I’ll have ye know this statue is priceless. Give it back immediately!’

  ‘Priceless, eh?’ repeated the man, his eyes suddenly gleaming. Then he said, ‘My apologies, sir. I have offended you and for that I am sorry. To make amends, allow me to wrap your precious statue so you can carry it safely through the streets of Athens. This is a dangerous city, full of pickpockets and thieves.’ He paused. ‘I will do this for free, of course.’

  ‘Well … OK,’ said Grandad dubiously. Frankie could see Grandad didn’t entirely trust this man. On the other hand, the guy had uttered Grandad’s favourite word: free.

  The vendor went to the back of his store and returned a minute later with the statue now bound in white linen and coarse brown string. ‘Here you go, sir – and I have good news. The Academy is not far up the road, on the right. Big white building, you can’t miss it. And again, please accept my apologies.’

  Grandad took the package and bowed. ‘I accept yer gracious gesture, sir. Good day.’

  As the little group headed off, Grandad whistled in the way he always did when he felt like he’d come out on top. Frankie began to feel a little more optimistic himself. So far, things had gone pretty smoothly. Now they just needed to find Lou at the Academy and then they could head home in time for dinner with Nanna Fish.

  But, as you know, things are never that simple.

  Not ever.

  CHAPTER 7

  I WOULD LiKE TO THANK THE ACADEMY

  Frankie, Drew and Grandad made their way to the Academy along the dusty, winding path. As the heat of the day began to intensify, Frankie felt his confidence slip away. How exactly do you rescue somebody who doesn’t want to be FOUND, let alone rescued?

  He kept trying to believe that Lou had probably calmed down by now and would be happy to see them. Frankie promised himself that once he was back home he would prove the Mosley triplets were behind the flour prank somehow.
Who knew – maybe Miss Merryweather was in on it too!

  As they rounded a bend they saw a red banner fluttering. On it were drawings of athletes competing in various events. A woman leading a goat in the opposite direction saw Frankie staring at it, and smiled. Quickly, Frankie flicked on the padlock as she began to speak.

  ‘… you been before?’ the woman was saying. ‘It’s the greatest athletic carnival in all the land, held at Mount Olympus every four years.’

  Frankie’s heart leapt with excitement. ‘Do you mean the Olympic Games?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the woman, continuing on her way. ‘Although, personally I don’t think that name will catch on.’

  ‘Ooh! Can we go, Grandad?’ asked Frankie excitedly.

  ‘Yeah, can we?’ Drew echoed. He pulled a hacky sack from one of his many pockets, and Frankie saw him get an all-too-familiar Drew Bird gleam in his eye. ‘Hey, maybe we should introduce hacky sack to the Olympics? And bottle-flipping too, while we’re at it!’

  Frankie snorted. ‘If we did that we’d mess up history, especially Ping’s timeline – she’s the one who introduced bottle-flipping to Imperial China after you showed her how to do it, remember?’

  ‘And besides, we are absolutely NOT going to the Olympics,’ said Grandad gruffly. ‘It’s too dangerous. We came to find Lou. Once we’ve done that, we’re going straight home.’

  Drew sighed. ‘FINE.’ He bounced the hacky sack as they kept walking, occasionally passing it back and forth with Frankie. It was harder to play hacky sack in a toga than it was in shorts, but they managed. ‘But it would be so COOL to go to the Olympics,’ Drew mused.

  Frankie knew exactly how Drew felt. He’d always been in awe of the Olympics. He hadn’t been born when the Sydney Olympics were held, but his parents had gone and they’d told him (about a million times) about how amazing it was. They’d actually been there the day Cathy Freeman won the gold medal for Australia. Frankie wished so badly that he could see that race, but he knew it was too risky. He didn’t want to accidentally stop Cathy Freeman from winning, or cause himself NOT to be born. That would really mess up his time-travel adventures.